Prince Iroh
by Acastus
Summary: Before he was General Iroh, Dragon of the West, he was Prince Iroh, first son of Fire Lord Azulon, and heir to the throne of the Fire Nation.
1. The Orchard

_Avatar: The Last Airbender_ Created By: Michael Dante DiMartino, Bryan Konietzko  
_Avatar: The Last Airbender_ Owned By: Nickelodeon, a subsidiary of Viacom  
All original content and characters © Acastus

* * *

**  
Chapter I – The Orchard**

Iroh stood up and wiped his sweaty brow with a rag. It was nearly sunset as he looked out over the orchard. The other day laborers were picking their last peaches and organizing their baskets to be counted. It had been many a year since he had asked his body to engage in such physical activity, and he would pay for it tomorrow. For the moment, however, he simply stank of hard work and the green earth.

Footsteps from behind alerted him to the presence of his nephew, "Here, uncle, I've finished three more."

Iroh stepped lightly out of the way as the banished Prince dropped three full baskets of peaches, one stacked on top of the other, next to the others they had collected.

"Excellent! Let's count up and see what we have." Iroh quickly summed up the baskets in front of them. "These plus the ones we gave to the Overseer this morning should give us almost two gold pieces. That should be enough for us to move on to someplace where we can relax for a while."

"How do you figure that, my corpulent friend?" came a smooth voice from behind them. "By my calculation you're due a total of nine silver pieces."

Iroh and Zuko turned to locate the source of the hated voice. They had known the Overseer less than three days and even Iroh had come to hate him. His long, angular nose and piercing, hawk like eyes seemed to be on everyone at once. He never spoke except to demean, and never acted if not to cheat, abuse or humiliate. The day before he had beaten a laborer with a whip and thrown him off the estate for accidentally dropping a basket of peaches into the pond.

"What do you mean?" growled Zuko. "We handed in 41 baskets this morning and we have, uh… how many do we have here, uncle?"

"We have 36 more, and some of them are those tart yellow ones that are everyone's favorite!"

The Overseer's eyes locked with Zuko's and a cruel grin spread over his face, he motioned to one of the two large men behind him, "Jin, the book. Now." The muscular mute handed over a small leather book which the Overseer opened without examining, instead keeping his gaze on Zuko.

"My records say you only handed in 28, and receiving says here that 11 of those were bruised." He snapped the book shut for emphasis. "So sorry, gutter filth, but we're not paying for fruit we can't sell. That's means you –"

Zuko's knuckles connected with the Overseer's face before Iroh or the bodyguards could react. With a cry his other fist connected with the Overseer's neck. Iroh rushed forward, shouting, "No, nephew, stop! Stop!" Staggering backwards the cruel man collapsed to his knees as his bodyguards rushed forward to engage the banished Prince.

"Get them! Get them you fools! Don't kill them, I want them alive!" screamed the Overseer, still struggling to regain his breath.

The mute guard launched a clumsy fist at Zuko, but was easily blocked as the Prince grabbed his assailant by the wrist. A quick twist followed by a sickening snap was enough to drop the mute to his knees in silent agony, tears streaming down his face. Zuko then turned to his other opponent, only to see Iroh, in a move far more graceful than his form seemed to allow, flip the man over his shoulder and knock him out with a palm blow to the forehead. Iroh straightened up once again, his work done for the second time that day and turned to his nephew.

"This was not wise."

"I don't care – and I'm not done either." replied Zuko, fire still in his voice as he turned to where the Overseer had fallen.

A quick scan of the trees and the upward slope on which they grew revealed nothing. The Overseer had beaten a hasty retreat. Around the pair, a small group of onlookers was quickly gathering. Some gazed with wonder and fear at the fallen tormentors, others looked with amazement or anger at the Fire Nation exiles. One of the laborers, a middle aged man with several missing teeth, approached them.

"You two had better go before this crowd decides to turn ya in."

"Why would they do that?" asked Zuko incredulously, "We just punished the people who lie and cheat them everyday."

Scratching his sideburn the onlooker replied, "Every one of us has wanted to do what ya done here, but we'll all pay for it too. That bastard'll be back with more guards. So, I'd say you should forget about what you're owed and leave now before these people here decide to turn y'all in."

Iroh bowed in response, saying, "Thank you for your wisdom, friend." Then, grabbing Zuko by the arm, "Let's go – now."

The pair fled the orchard, leaving behind the incapacitated guards and the angry, fearful crowd of the powerless. Twilight was upon them by the time they reached the road at the edge of the estate. Iroh leaned against a tree upon gaining the road, breathing heavily with the exertion. Zuko appeared next and sat down heavily on the side of the road.

"I'm sorry, uncle. Attacking that fool wasn't worth endangering us – and those peasants weren't worth saving."

Regaining his breath, Iroh replied, "Those people live without hope, Prince Zuko. As low as you have fallen, you have always had hope. Do not be so eager to judge." The retired general then turned and walked past Zuko without looking at him, "We must keep going. The Overseer is a vengeful man and will pursue us."

Zuko, now walking beside him sneered, "Let him come. Alone on this road I will burn him alive and laugh."

"I see you haven't learned the value of temperance, nephew."

"And you are too soft, uncle!" Replied Zuko hotly, fixing his uncle with a hard glance from his maimed eye, "How can you bear this humiliation day after day with that ridiculous smile plastered on your face? We are royalty and yet we have become beggars and day laborers. I was to become Fire Lord, and now I am little better than the slaves we just left! It isn't fair."

Zuko's voice trailed away as he spoke, his anger turning to depression and self pity.

"Life isn't fair, Prince Zuko. I know this – better than you."

The two moved quickly along the road in silence. Twilight descended rapidly into night, and soon a waxing moon appeared over the horizon. Clear and bright, the pale orb cast its ghostly pallor across the uneven surface of the dirt road before them. Ahead they spied a bend in the road and heard the sound of rushing water beyond it. Behind them another bend in the road obscured the way they had come.

As they approached the water, another sound caused them to stop their jog mid step. Straining to identify the source, the ground began to vibrate slightly.

"Horses, uncle! From behind!"

"Hide – quickly."

Both disappeared into the brush beside the road a moment before a barouche carriage rounded the bend behind them. Pulled by four ostrich horses, the carriage itself was decorated richly with ornate, black lacquered wood and gold leaf. Dangling from its roof were two, intricately carved lanterns that glowed brightly from within. As Iroh and Zuko lay flat on the ground by the roadside they were unable to see the driver or the occupants, but it was clear that even the wheels were inlaid with gold as they rolled slowly by them.

The pair sprang from their hiding places as the carriage began to turn the corner out of sight. No sooner had this happened when a loud crash was heard, followed by coarse shouting and loud curses. Iroh and Zuko cast sidelong glances at each other, then hurried forward at a run.

Charging around the bend they were greeted by a picturesque view of the ornate barouche stopped on a bridge that arched over a small, noisy brook. Its passage was blocked by a chain pulled taught across the end of the bridge. Four malevolent looking figures surrounded the carriage. One of them mounted the box as Iroh and Zuko approached and dragged down the driver, who screamed in terror. Another walked up to the door of the carriage and began to shout at it.

"Come out, you! I see you in there!"

A booming voice from inside the barouche replied, "I don't give a damn what you want, you scum –"

The voice was cut off as the scoundrel punched out the frosted glass window that served as the top half of the carriage's door. The sounds of a struggle ensued as Iroh and Zuko reached the scene. A moment later the lead scoundrel backed out of the carriage, pulling out its single occupant with him. He was easily three hundred pounds and dressed in rich clothing, outrageously colored. An enormous jewel hung from a chain around his neck and several of his fingers were festooned with rings.

"I'll have you idiots horse whipped for this!" shouted the rotund man.

The bandit cocked back his arm to aim a blow at his defiant target, but it was never thrown. For the second time that day, Zuko's knuckles connected solidly against another man's face. The scoundrel's head snapped back at the impact and he lurched drunkenly against the side of the barouche. Another drew a short sword and lunged at Iroh, but the retired general took the sword with ease and casually stabbed his assailant in the hand. With that, the melee was over almost as soon as it had begun. Cursing loudly and screaming in pain, the shadowy men ran headlong into the forest beside the road.

Iroh walked over and helped the driver to his feet, who though clearly shaken, was unhurt. Zuko removed the chain blocking the path of the carriage, then returned to stand by his uncle.

Booming laughter was heard as the fat man addressed them, "Well met, friends!" The traveler walked over and bowed low to the exiles, "I am Trimazu, the merchant! Thank you both for helping me out against that fascist scum!" As he brushed off his robe he continued, "Ha! Fifty gold pieces says they were Fire Nation, too. They're all fascist!"

Iroh coughed, and, after stealing a sidelong glance at his fuming nephew, replied, "You are most welcome, sir."

After straightening his robe, Trimazu examined his newfound acquaintances with a practiced eye. Suddenly he leaned forward and sniffed.

"Whew! Yeh, you two stink like an outhouse! Day laborers right?" Before they could answer he continued, his voice animated and bursting with both arrogance and mischief, "Excellent! Excellent! As a further token of my generosity, how would your stomachs feel about partaking in the Planter's Moon feast I am throwing tonight?"

"No, thank you. I'm afraid our journey will not wait," came Zuko's icy reply. He turned to leave, but was stopped by Iroh's hand on his shoulder.

"Feast?" Grinning widely, Iroh, with a low bow of his own, continued smoothly, "We would be delighted to accept your generous offer, Lord."

"Lord? Well, you're welcome any time you like! Now get in. You're going to have the best night of your lives! My parties are always the best and the entertainment? Oh the entertainment! The feasts at my abode are the stuff of legend from Ogasawara to Guangzhu! Come friends! Get in!"

Sighing audibly, Zuko boarded the carriage, his uncle close behind. Trimazu boarded last, and with a final shouted instruction to the driver, the carriage barreled once again down the moonlit road.


	2. The Merchant of Shanxi

_Avatar: The Last Airbender_ Created By: Michael Dante DiMartino, Bryan Konietzko_  
Avatar: The Last Airbender_ Owned By: Nickelodeon, a subsidiary of Viacom  
All original content and characters © Acastus

* * *

****

**  
Chapter II –The Merchant of Shanxi**

The carriage continued on its journey along the moonlit road. Inside, Iroh and Zuko sat opposite their host on seats made of crushed, red velvet. The road was unpaved and full of potholes, but the ride within the coach was smooth.

"And what are you two called?" inquired the merchant, settling his enormous bulk on the seat.

"Uh, my name is Li and this is my uncle –"

"Xian," cut in Iroh, shooting a self satisfied grin at his nephew.

"Good, good! Now, when we get to the house, please don't stand on ceremony for me! We have more in common than you know. Twenty years ago I was a day laborer like you! Yes, I know it is hard to believe, but it's true. So no matter how bad things are, don't despair! Someday, if you work smart and you're lucky, you could end up like me!"

"We can only hope, Lord!" replied Iroh, raising his voice in a vain attempt to cover the snort of disdain that erupted from his nephew. "May I ask," continued the retired general, "how many people will be at the feast?"

"A wondrous question – and I shall answer! My guest list is the most extensive in the four plains region." Trimazu leaned forward and eagerly began counting off the guests on his fingers, "We'll have two ex governors of Shanxi province, half a dozen local magistrates, every property owner worth the name for forty leagues and the Minister of the Interior all the way from Ba-Sing-Se! Haha! And do you know what they all have in common? I'll tell you! They owe me money! Huge, whopping loads of it! So don't worry about your clothes or your scar young man – I see you trying to hide your face over there."

Zuko looked up at this comment, an expression of dull hatred etched upon his face.

"Nothing to be bashful about!" the merchant continued confidently, ignoring the Prince's ill concealed anger, "When they see you are my guests these unctuous fools will line up to kiss your beggar's arse, I promise you! We'll get a good laugh at them, eh?"

"Uh, yes, Lord, I daresay we will," replied Iroh.

"Everyone there except us will be noblemen of one sort or another, but don't be intimidated by their fancy dress and flowery words! Hehe, I can buy and sell every one of them and they know it. So don't feel out of place or inferior to these people, that's what they expect – don't give them the satisfaction! Just enjoy yourselves!"

Without stopping to catch a breath, the merchant boomed expansively, "Oh, and don't hesitate to pass wind at dinner if you feel the need, my friends. Why, last year at some feast or another I almost did myself a harm trying to hold up a mighty blast! Better to suffer a little malodorous inconvenience than risk one's health, don't you agree?"

Iroh, horrified, and desperately trying to ignore the strangling noises escaping Zuko's lips, replied uncertainly, "Uh, yes! Sounds, uh… liberating!"

Delighted, the fat man pointed an agreeable finger at Iroh and replied, "Exactly! Just the right word – liberating! See how much we have in common?" Zuko flinched visibly as the merchant continued, "I say let the Fire Nation fascists blow themselves to bits trying to restrain wind during their interminable ceremonies!" Then, adding in a conspiratorial tone, "You know, I hear tell that the court of the Fire Lord spends six or seven hours every day in some kind of ceremony! Receptions, audiences and the like! _Every day!_"

"Oh, more I should think," commented Iroh automatically.

Without registering Iroh's remark, Trimazu continued his musing, "I bet that's why old Azulon died! Wind, I tell you!"

Then, as if emerging from a trance, the fat man began to quickly look through the windows on each side of the carriage.

"Anyway, what the hell is going on here? My mother could walk faster than this and she's been dead for fifteen years. Okay, hold on a minute…" at this the merchant got up and stuck his head and torso out of the broken window and began to shout at the driver. Trimazu's ample behind wiggled vigorously within inches of Zuko's face as the tirade against his servant gathered momentum.

Zuko, aghast, and trying desperately to avoid the acrobatics of the merchant's rear end, leaned over to Iroh and whispered urgently, "Uncle, you can't expect me to sit through a meal with this…this pig! He's loud, obnoxious, and _obsessed_ with bodily functions!"

"Consider the alternative, Prince Zuko. Would you rather travel all night on foot and risk capture?"

"Yes! We have nothing to fear from –," Zuko's emphatic reply was rudely interrupted by the merchant's back end slamming into his face.

Trimazu finished extricating himself from the window frame and turned around, saying, "Your pardon, Li! I had to set my driver straight there." The carriage indeed sped up as Trimazu sat down, facing them once again, and continued, "He's a good man, but not too bright. Don't want to keep the guests waiting too long – fashionably late is just fine, but ya can't miss the whole damn thing. There's a limit to the patience even of these greedy pikers!"

Curiosity getting the better of him, Iroh enquired, "Lord, if you hate these nobles so much, why do you have them as guests?"

"Ah! Well spoken! Because it's good business. They despise me as much as I do them, but we profit mightily from each other. Of course," he leaned over and once more adopted his conspiratorial tone, "truthfully, I delight in every opportunity to stick it to the nobility! Haha! Pallid, devious worms, the lot of them! I love embarrassing those who put on airs and think themselves better than everyone else! Pshaw! I put on airs, to be sure, but I hold myself in no more regard than you or my driver!"

"Indeed, Lord, that seems just as far as I can tell," commented Iroh dryly.

Iroh grimaced as Trimazu slapped him on the knee and boomed, "You're a good man, Xian! You and your nephew will feast well tonight. Soon we shall arrive at the summer house where the feast is to be held!"

Unable to restrain himself, Zuko asked acidly, "And what about those nobles who lead Earth Kingdom armies against the Fire Nation? Are they worms too?"

"No," came the suddenly serious reply, "They are better men than I! Yet all I can do for them is perfect my industry as best I may. The entire output of my mines and blacksmiths is consumed by the army – may the spirits grant them victory over the red tide that threatens to drown us all! I hope for the best on that score, though I fear the hope of the world now rests solely with the Avatar."

The barouche sped on into the night. Turning off the main road, the coach entered an open gate guarded by a stone watchtower. They continued along a winding, though well maintained, path deep into the merchant's sprawling summer home estate. Despite the ridiculous speed at which the driver now propelled them, it was still the better part of an hour before they reached the brightly lit villa.

Trimazu's summer home was an enormous edifice whose main entrance was composed of bronze double doors almost two stories high. The doors were flanked by two enormous fire pots and two guards in green who bowed as the merchant's party passed quickly inside. The drive was packed full of carriages and litters of varying sizes parked in neat rows – it was obvious that many if not all the guests had arrived.

They were ushered into the front entrance hall by two servants who busied themselves helping the merchant out of his heavy outer robe. All three of them removed their shoes upon entering, upon which a servant set them carefully beside the main door. Zuko stood erect, his arms crossed, staring defiantly at Trimazu, who failed utterly to take notice.

Iroh looked down at his own soiled clothing and began, "May my nephew and I wash before joining the feast, Lord?"

"Oh, no my friends!" cried Trimazu as he finished donning a vest of black material shot with threads of gold, "There's no time for that! The feast will taste no worse for your stench, I guarantee! Besides, it pleases me to know that my noble guests will have a chance to enjoy the aromatics of those who engage in such hard labor on their behalf! Haha! Let's go!"

Iroh groaned, but followed the merchant deeper into the house. Zuko walked alongside in stony silence.

"Remember, Prince Zuko," Iroh whispered, "to contain yourself, whatever happens. This is not the time to dwell on one's pride."

"I can think of no greater humiliation, uncle," Zuko replied in a low, threatening voice, "than to be used as some kind of cheap prop for a mindless, baboon of an ex-slave to ridicule his betters. We can't possibly sink any lower than this."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that."

3


	3. The Storyteller

_Avatar: The Last Airbender_ Created By: Michael Dante DiMartino, Bryan Konietzko  
_Avatar: The Last Airbender_ Owned By: Nickelodeon, a subsidiary of Viacom  
All original content and characters © Acastus

* * *

**  
Chapter III – The Storyteller**

They stopped and Trimazu threw open a sliding panel in front of them to reveal a long hall filled with perhaps a hundred men and women in colorful dress. A group of musicians played peaceful music on a variety of wind instruments somewhere out of sight. Three long, low tables were set up as three sides of a rectangle that ran up and down a large part of the hall. The guests were standing in small groups chatting idly with each other as the host's party entered.

"Welcome, friends and associates!" boomed the merchant. All eyes turned to him as he swept into the hall. The unseen musicians halted their playing as the master of the house and his companions approached the head of the table. Once in front of his seat, the merchant bowed low and continued his address.

"My apologies for arriving late, but I was accosted on my return from the auction by a group of bandits. I think somebody here thought they could get out of paying what they owe me!" he put his hands on his thunderous hips and queried, "Now who here is going to fess up to it, eh?"

Iroh was astonished to hear most of the guests begin to laugh at the merchant's outrageous accusation. In the Fire Nation such a comment would have undoubtedly caused a riot followed closely by the sudden appearance of a pile of flaming corpses. The retired general wondered in silence at the strange people who inhabited the Earth Kingdom.

"All right, dear guests, please sit down and stuff yourselves! Xian, Li – sit here on my right! You're my guests of honor. It's all right; you're only displacing my neighbor, Chen Ho." The merchant sat down heavily, crossing his legs and motioning with both hands for the servants on either side of the room to begin serving.

Now that the host had seated himself, the guests moved to follow suit. Iroh sat on Trimazu's right, his nephew in turn beside him.

"You've sunk to a new low, Trimazu, a feat even for you!" came an infuriated voice from behind them.

Laughing, Trimazu turned and replied, "Chen Ho! How wonderful to hear your voice! What an honor it is to have the patriarch of the noble Ho family attend my feast! Now, you should be honored to meet these people – judging from where we met I'd say they were working your peach orchard today. This is Xian and his nephew, Li, and they're from, uh," the merchant turned to Iroh to inquire, "Where are you from?"

"Oh, we are, uh, refugees from Omashu," supplied Iroh.

Chen Ho, a tall, gray haired man with a long, drooping moustache, looked briefly at the two exiles as if they were insects.

"This is an outrage." Chen remarked flatly.

"In every possible way," remarked Zuko, softly enough that only Iroh could hear.

"Oh, peace, my friend!" replied Trimazu, holding up his hands in defeat. "These men saved me from bandits on my way here tonight, and it is only just that I reward them with a seat of honor. So, go sit next to Li over there, or I'll rethink my decision to exchange your enormous debt to me for a share in your failing bakery business!"

Fuming, Chen Ho, hesitated. His cheeks flushed red at Trimazu's indiscreet revelation regarding his personal finances. The closest guests had finished seating themselves. Many, including, it would appear, Governor Tao and a few others nearby were starting to look over at the scene with interest. Chen turned without another word and took the seat next to the banished Prince.

The merchant leaned over to Iroh, poured him some tea, and remarked in a whisper of barely suppressed glee, "I never tire of abusing that snob! His family owned my father!"

The guests had now seated themselves. A small army of servants were busy placing huge plates of food on the tables. Iroh grinned as small bowls of steamed rice, large bowls of spiced noodles, exotic fruits and platters of roast duck and cured ham were placed near him. Each guest was poured a glass of wine in preparation for the toast that Trimazu gave in honor of the Earth Spirit. The harvest had been abundant last year and the mood in the room, withstanding even Trimazu's coarse humor, was generous.

Iroh served himself large helpings of everything in reach as the feast began in earnest. Servants brought along many small dishes of raw fish wrapped in rice, breads and vegetables. A sip of the tea confirmed that is was a delicious ginseng. After satisfying his immediate hunger, Iroh noticed his nephew sitting impassively at his side.

"You had best eat something. It maybe a long time before we eat like this again. Besides, the food is delicious! Eat, Prince Zuko, even you cannot fight on an empty stomach."

Zuko was in fact starving. He met his uncle's eyes briefly, then, with a slight shake of his head in resignation, began to eat.

Iroh had just finished another cup of tea, when the merchant turned to him and said, "Xian, this is Tao Lin, former governor of this province." Trimazu leaned back to allow Iroh a line of site to the man sitting on his left. Tao's face was angular and chiseled, and though clearly middle aged, his body was in good condition.

Tao smiled, bowed slightly in place, and began, "Greetings, Xian. Trimazu has just told me of you and your nephew's heroics tonight. It isn't often one hears of freedmen who have such skill in combat. You come from Omashu. Tell me, were you soldiers of King Bumi?"

Iroh's eyes widened at the question. He bought a few moments by slurping up the noodles left in his cup. Zuko leaned back and regarded his uncle calmly; a slight smile the only indication of his amusement at his uncle's discomfort. The retired general then replied, "No, Governor, my nephew and I sold wares from a shop cart in the market. We left as soon as we heard that the, uh, "fascists" were nearing the city."

Governor Tao looked disappointed, "A shame. I was hoping for news of the city's fall. Many rumors have spread that King Bumi surrendered Omashu without a fight – which I find hard to believe."

"Believe it," interjected the merchant, "And it isn't Omashu anymore, that bitch, Princess Azula, has renamed it "New Ozai City!""

Zuko looked over in surprise at Trimazu at this and blurted out, "Azula in Omashu! What was she doing there?"

Trimazu turned to Zuko and his eyes disappeared beneath his bangs, for this was the first time Zuko had spoken to the fat man since the bridge.

"Well, Li, glad you decided to join the conversation! I heard all this from one of my suppliers who used to have operations there, and I asked him the same question. He said he heard she was there to see a friend. I don't believe _that_ for a second though."

Leaning toward them, he continued in his conspiratorial tone, "From what I hear that girl is a demon from hell sent to torment the whole world. I'd bet my weight in gold there's not a soul on earth that'd piss on her if she were on fire!"

Tao and Iroh laughed at this, and so, though very much against his will, did Zuko. It was a bitter laugh, but a laugh all the same, for of course, he would have given anything for what the merchant said to have been true. As it was, everyone he cared about save his uncle favored his sister over him.

"Anyway, sounds like you have a crush on her or something! I hear she's beautiful, if cruel. Still, I doubt she'd be interested in you. Tao has a good looking daughter your age, though!" Trimazu turned back to his other guest with wide, expectant eyes, "What do you say, Tao?"

"My daughter is not marrying a freedman, Trimazu," replied Tao, stiffly.

"Oh, bull! If I offered you two hundred thousand for her to marry Li here your only concern would be how to get the loot home without getting mugged! And no – don't ask me about it later, because I'm not really making an offer." Trimazu laughed and continued, "Anyway, my supplier also told me that Princess Azula basically threw out the Governor appointed by her father – after publicly humiliating him!" Trimazu slapped Tao roughly on the back, "Be thankful you aren't Governor of Omashu, my friend!" Tao grimaced at the physical contact, but refrained from the smart reply he might otherwise have delivered.

Zuko slipped back into his sullen silence after this exchange, but proceeded to eat his fill without further restraint. After he had finished eating, Zuko felt his eyelids grow heavy, as his body registered both the day's labor and the food he had just eaten. Just when Prince Zuko thought the feast would never end, however, the merchant stood up and addressed his guests once more.

"I have a special treat in store for us. As everyone knows, I spare no expense for my parties and tonight shall prove no exception. I have paid an obscene amount of money to have Gao Xingjian, the storyteller, here with us tonight."

Trimazu clapped his hands together and a wall panel opened to his left. Through the open door strode an old, thin man in a plain green robe. As the merchant resumed his seat next to Iroh, many of the guests looked upon the old man with wonder, impressed despite themselves. Gao walked around the end of the table closest to him and then came to stand in the center of three tables.

Bowing low, Gao greeted his host, "I thank you, Master Trimazu, for your generous introduction." The storyteller straightened up and turned to address the guests in an affected voice, saying, "Greetings, noble lords. Many of you already know of me as the most famous teller of tales in the eastern lands. I have entertained kings in Omashu, generals in Ba-Sing-Se, the noble rulers of the North Pole, and yes, even in the palace of the Fire Lord in my youth. I am honored to be your servant this evening. Please, lords, tell me your desires, your secret longings and I shall fulfill them. What tales can I tell to gladden your hearts, elevate your spirits and free your minds?"

Gao ended his short soliloquy with a hand raised to the ceiling in a dramatic gesture. He looked around him making quick eye contact with members of his audience. After a few moments of silence several audience members spoke up at once.

"How about how the return of the Avatar?" asked a middle aged man to Gao's left.

"Or the siege of Ba-Sing-Se?" said another.

Zuko's weariness vanished as he looked over at his uncle with wide eyes. Iroh sat expressionless. He met Zuko's eyes briefly then refocused on the storyteller.

"Bah!" interjected Trimazu, "how many times have you heard those! If you wanted to hear something like that you might as well have me get up there and tell it!" Many in the crowd looked aghast at the mere mention of such a possibility, but the merchant barreled ahead without notice, "Come, friends, challenge him! He's costing me a bloody fortune, don't waste it!"

Gao replied to the audience members who had spoken, saying, "Thank you, good sirs. Both are worthy subjects. As to the former, Rumor, the omnipresent spirit who walks wherever man treads, has spread the tale of the Avatar's return far and wide. Even I, however, who have traveled the world, cannot attest to the truth of these stories. As for the latter, the siege of Ba-Sing-Se and General Iroh's defeat within the very walls of our mighty capital is indeed a spectacular tale. It is also, however, a well worn story which I am sure everyone here has heard recounted many times before."

Governor Tao then spoke, "Ba-Sing-Se is a moth-eaten tale, I grant, but I would hear tell of a Fire Nation defeat tonight if I can manage it. I have not heard the story of the Battle of Lake Myojin and the end of Prince Xian in many years. Would that suit?"

Gao's white eyebrows disappeared under his brows and a smile lit his face, "Indeed, Lord – it is an excellent choice. The story of the ill fated cousin of Iroh and Ozai is a good one. The fall of Prince Xian, however, is but a piece of the larger tale that I shall tell, for I know many things about that episode which are not common knowledge."

"If you wish to hear of disaster and defeat within the very organs of the Western Power that threatens us even today, we must go back before that famed battle and hear also of many events after its conclusion. And yet I must warn you, Lord Governor, that what I give with one hand, I must take away with the other. To tell the tale I have in mind, we must not only be present at Lake Myojin, but at the lamented Battle of Mequon as well." Then, turning to Trimazu, "May I proceed, Lord?"

"Yes!" cried Trimazu and clapping his hands together in excitement, "I know where this is going, and it sounds too juicy to pass up. Let's hear about old Iroh's misfortunes then!"

Zuko's gasp was cut short before it became audible by Iroh's strong grip on his wrist from underneath the table.

"Then let us begin. Of the events I will relate, some are well known, others known to but a few. Tonight we follow the life of one man, a man whose life has touched each of ours in some way, whether we realize it or not."

"The Battle of Lake Myojin is part of the sad tale of General's Iroh early public life. Yes, long before he came to be called the "Dragon of the West," General Iroh, conqueror of Xinhua and victor of the Battle of Five Forks and a hundred other campaigns, was then Prince Iroh, eldest son of Fire Lord Azulon."

"All here know of Prince Iroh's infamous duel with his step brother, the hated Prince Tien Shin. How he spent seven long years in exile on the island of Planasia before his father released him to serve in the army once more. Most believe that the hatred between Iroh and Tien Shin, a hatred exaggerated by years of intense conflict, had simply erupted into violence upon their return from the Earth Kingdom. But this is not so! Tonight you shall learn the true cause of their infamous duel."

"Does this tale interest you, lords?"

The guests, clearly intrigued to learn something new about their legendary antagonist, murmured its assent, and the storyteller began anew.

"Thirty years ago, at a Harvest Moon feast much like this one we enjoy tonight, when Prince Xian of blessed memory, yet lived…"


	4. A Family Affair

_Avatar: The Last Airbender_ Created By: Michael Dante DiMartino, Bryan Konietzko  
_Avatar: The Last Airbender_ Owned By: Nickelodeon, a subsidiary of Viacom  
All original content and characters © Acastus

* * *

**  
Chapter IV – A Family Affair**

Prince Iroh felt certain the feast had gone on forever. His mother, when alive, had tried diligently to persuade him that such feasts were somehow enjoyable. The truth was that the endless ceremonies of the palace bored the young Prince to tears. Though he loved his mother and mourned her passing, Iroh always regarded her efforts in this regard as little more than sugar coating.

The Harvest Moon Feast had earned a special place of disfavor in Iroh's heart. While the exaggerated obeisances and sycophantic adulation of the arriving guests were no worse at this event than at any other Fire Nation high holiday, the Harvest Moon Feast did bear a unique distinction. In addition to its role as a celebration marking the end of the growing season, it was also the anniversary of the aging Fire Lord's great naval victory over the Earth Kingdom some twenty years prior.

Consequently, Iroh reflected bitterly, every Harvest Moon Feast since then had been ruined by his father's insistence on dragging some wine soaked yarn-spinner out of his tavern and forcing him to recount the tale. This year had proven no exception. The storyteller that had been imported all the way from Yantai was so boring that Iroh thought he was going to gnaw off his own limbs in frustration.

Struggling to stay awake, Iroh surveyed the scene around him. He and his family sat at three long, low tables set up on the dais. The tables formed three sides of a rectangle. The storyteller stood in the center of the rectangle, the floor of which was painted with an ornate map of the world.

His elder cousin, Xian, who sat to his right, somehow managed to enjoy it all and never ceased to encourage Iroh to approach such situations with equanimity. As the feast entered its eighth hour, however, Iroh rehearsed in his head exactly what he intended to tell Xian he could do with his equanimity.

Xian regarded his cousin over the lip of his tea cup and smiled at his sour expression.

"You will survive this, cousin, I promise," murmured Xian.

"Oh yes, I'll live, but I won't enjoy it," Iroh replied quietly, failing to suppress a smile.

Xian was five years older than Iroh and already had a successful military career. He had spent four years with General Shu, commander of the Army of the Song River. Together they had fought several campaigns in the southern Earth Kingdom and done much to reverse the Fire Nation's declining fortunes there. Ozai, Iroh's younger brother, had accompanied Xian late in his tour, but had chosen to remain with Shu in hopes of laying siege to Omashu in the coming year.

As coldly ambitious as his younger brother was proving to be, he was not Iroh's main source of imperial anxiety. His eyes slid past his cousin to rest on the ever more frequent object of his anger and disdain. Prince Tien Shin, less than a year his senior, sat at the table across from him. Tien Shin grinned smugly back. Iroh grimaced internally and wondered what his hated rival might have in store. Let him grin! Some day he would cut that vile sycophant's head off with his one of his own war fans. And if Iroh did not do it himself, he felt sure that one his friends, probably either Nikon or Gan, would.

Tien Shin hated Nikon in particular for allegedly stealing the attentions of his favorite courtesan. When Iroh had confronted Nikon over the latter his friend had causally replied, "Oh, there's nothing "alleged" about it."

Abandoning these thoughts, Iroh averted his eyes from his nemesis as the storyteller finally granted the audience mercy by ending his monologue.

Addressing Xian and Iroh, the storyteller began to wind down, "Sons of Fire! Remember well the Feast of the Harvest Moon. For nineteen years ago this day the hopes and dreams of Ch'in the Conqueror were vanquished forever by the son of Sozen."

"Now you must finish the grand enterprise that the Lord of the Comet began and which your glorious father advanced to the brink of fruition. Know this, Princes of the Empire, before your lives are spent, the Fire Nation's struggle to bring order and civilization to the world will be over! Whether the blood of our people will have been spent in vain will hang on your deeds. Bring glory and honor to the Fire Nation and your names will be remembered beside your forefathers!"

Turning to Fire Lord Azulon the storyteller bowed deeply and concluded, as if reciting a formula, "May your reign be long and glorious, Lord Azulon, and may the Spirit of the Sun grant you victory."

Iroh sighed inwardly with relief as the storyteller retreated from the dais where the Fire Lord and his family sat. All eyes turned to Azulon as he began to speak. He was a tall, thin man with grey hair that was now turning white. His face was hard and cruel, and his countenance spoke of an iron will weighed down by worldly cares. His second wife, Lady Ila, sat next to him.

"My reign has been long," he began slowly, "but for many years it has not been glorious." His eyes met briefly with those around the table before he continued.

"Stories are worth the retelling only for what they teach us. Remembrance of past victories serve only to show the miserable situation we now face."

Iroh and Xian looked quickly at each other as the aging Fire Lord rose from his seat. They began to rise along with everyone else as custom dictated, but the Fire Lord motioned them back down. Azulon walked slowly around his part of the table and stood where the storyteller had been. Looking at the nobility seated at the tables farther down the hall, many of them members of the War College, he continued in a voice mightier than his frail frame seemed to allow.

"This shame is no secret and it belongs to us all. In the last ten years we have lost most of the lands conquered by my father and me in my youth. Our enemies have organized against us. We must take action now – or we will lose this war." Azulon paused a moment to allow this to sink in before he continued, "We have lost our footholds on the western shores of the Inland Sea and Lake Myojin, and the Nasu Plain has fallen."

"Worst of all, it has been many years now since General Nifong and his cavalry swept down from the Granite Mountains." He spoke the Earth Kingdom leader's name with bitterness, but grudging respect.

"Since then this scourge of the Sun Spirit has destroyed four Fire Nation armies. Over three hundred thousand loyal Fire Nation soldiers dead or missing. The list of our defeats at his hands is long and sordid. You know them all! Names like Hefei, Sun Valley, and the Song. Among those lost at the infamous Battle of the Song was my brother, Prince Xian's father, who passed to the spirit world that day with the help of an assassin's blade! As if the enemy isn't enough for us to contend with, we suffer the evils of treachery within our own ranks as well."

At this several noblemen rose from their seats with cries of, "Lord, may you live forever!" Azulon silenced these with a wave of his hand and continued.

"One by one, our great strongholds have been sacked and destroyed. Of the five original colonies, only Mequon remains. How long will we sit idly by and allow our patrimony to be stolen by our inferiors?"

"The time has come for us to renew our commitment to victory with the blood of our enemies! In my father's time we replaced sailing vessels with ironclads and with this power I took absolute control of the seas! Now we must do the same on land. The construction and training of our new army is nearly complete and the armored war machines that it contains will finally give us the advantage we need to overcome the Earth Kingdom's numbers!"

Azulon paused and looked over at his brother's son, "Prince Xian!"

Xian rose instantly from his seat, walked behind the table and knelt before his uncle.

"Yes, Lord."

"I place you in command of the new army and all Fire Nation forces north of the Great Divide. Your orders are to avenge your noble father's death! Invade the Nasu plain and destroy General Nifong and his cavalry by the end of the coming summer. To aid you in this enterprise, Prince Tien Shin shall be your _daimyo_. My son, Prince Iroh, will join you as well. Do you accept this honor?"

"I do, Lord Azulon," Xian replied in a strong, clear voice.

"Then may the Sun Spirit grant you victory, General Xian. Destroy our enemies and your name shall live forever."

Xian remained kneeling, his head bowed as Azulon, followed closely by his wife, turned and left the Great Hall through the exit to his apartments in the rear. The nobility and civil servants stood up in silence as the Fire Lord made his way out.

When he was gone, the room erupted in chatter as the Fire Lord's decision was instantly praised, debated, and, albeit quietly, criticized in some quarters. Many remarked that Prince Xian was justly popular for his role in General Shu's past victories and that his record as interim governor had demonstrated his administrative abilities, while others countered that four years of experience was little compared to General Nifong's distinguished quarter century of triumphant re-conquest.

These thoughts of the chattering class mattered little to Prince Iroh, who stood up in anger and marched over to his cousin. Xian shifted his glance to see Tien Shin stand up and walk over to him as well.

"Congratulations, cousin! The Fire Lord has honored you with a difficult, but glorious task," Tien Shin said in greeting. He was taller than both Xian and Iroh, his face leaner. His hair was black and from his cheeks grew the traditional Fire Nation sideburns. His eyes were pools of dark, liquid brown, and though his words were gracious, his tone was too measured and calculating to be truly friendly.

Xian bowed and replied, "He has, Tien Shin, and I hope for your full support. I will need it to succeed."

"No, you won't!" interjected Iroh hotly. Pointing an accusatory finger at his step brother he continued, "This imposter is neither my brother nor your cousin, Xian! He is Lady Ila's son by her own first marriage," then turning to Tien Shin, "which you seem determined to forget, Tien Shin! You are not my father's son, you are a pretender to whom my father has given a title to please his wife!"

"Two titles, Iroh," Tien Shin purred, "I am now _daimyo_ of the Army of the Great Divide, and your superior officer. I will see that you learn respect."

"How? Are you planning to arrest me for treason as well?" retorted the young Prince, "You're a disgrace, Tien Shin, a disgrace who curries favor with my father by playing to his basest fears."

Tien Shin's grin grew slightly wider, his tone softer and more malevolent, "The Fire Lord does not agree with you, Prince. He, at least, appreciates those who watch his back for him. Isn't it a shame that he has to rely on me and not his own sons for his protection?"

Iroh, stung badly by this insult, lunged toward his step-brother. Xian grabbed him by the shoulders to prevent him from reaching his target. Tien Shin's icy smile did not waver, nor did his gaze lift from Iroh as he bowed slightly to Xian. Then, with a single backward glance of contempt, Tien Shin turned and left the hall.

Still fuming, Iroh turned to his cousin, "Father cannot be serious, Xian! Why did he choose _him_ to be _daimyo_! I will not take orders from that simpering idiot! Tien Shin is a filthy, scheming –," he cut himself off as Xian sighed and held up a hand in a mollifying gesture.

"Calm yourself cousin," he said, releasing Iroh's shoulder, "Nothing has happened that cannot be mended."

Iroh opened his mouth to reply, but his cousin had begun leading him down the steps of the dais and now they reached the main floor of the hall where the guests still congregated. Nothing further could be said between them as a large group of noblemen, bureaucrats and members of the War College pressed around them to offer their congratulations and well wishes for a swift victory. Iroh, now convinced that the torture of this Harvest Moon feast would never end, was unable to speak to his cousin alone again for the rest of the evening.


	5. The Prince and The Pauper

_Avatar: The Last Airbender_ Created By: Michael Dante DiMartino, Bryan Konietzko  
_Avatar: The Last Airbender_ Owned By: Nickelodeon, a subsidiary of Viacom  
Based in part on a scene from part V of _"I, Claudius", _by Robert Graves, screenplay by Jack Pulman  
All original content and characters © Acastus

_Author's Note: Pardon the delayed update folks, it's been hell at work. This chapter and the next are a little slow, but we'll get to the main action soon after. Thanks for the patience!_

* * *

**  
Chapter V – The Prince and The Pauper  
**  
Nikon looked out over the terrace to the garden below. The sun had just risen over the mountains, but had promptly hidden itself behind a bank of clouds. Soon it would begin to rain. Sighing inwardly, he hoped Iroh would not keep him waiting long to begin their morning training. Given Iroh's mood recently, however, Nikon half hoped the rain would wash them out. Ever since the Harvest Moon feast his friend had grown sullen and prone to unpleasant, angry outbursts. 

He turned around at the sound of footsteps expecting to see Iroh. Instead, he saw a short man with light brown eyes and wide forehead approaching. He wore an army uniform with no rank insignia, but Nikon instantly recognized him and bowed.

"Hail, Prince Xian!"

Xian smiled warmly and bowed slightly in return before replying.

"Are you Nikon Orlando?" he inquired.

"Yes, Your Highness."

"Good. I've been looking for you," continued the Prince. Nikon's eyebrows disappeared under his bangs in shock. Xian chuckled at this response and jabbed a finger at him, "Yes, you!"

Nikon turned his head slightly away from Xian at this statement. Despite the Prince's pleasant countenance and his own friendship with the Crown Prince, he knew enough to know that such sudden attention from the high and mighty often had disastrous consequences for more common folk like him. His eyes darted from side to side, but he could see no guards on the terrace. They were alone.

"Have I done something wrong, Your Highness?" he asked in a low, tense voice.

"Not at all, my friend. In fact, I've come to ask for your help."

"My help?" asked Iroh's friend incredulously, his voice kicking up an octave in surprise. This was getting truly bizarre.

Xian's smile grew wider. He looked around the empty terrace in a slightly exaggerated fashion, then fixed his gaze once more on Nikon.

"Well, there are only two of us here and we did establish that your name is Nikon."

Nikon blushed furiously at this humorous jab, then shook his head as if to clear it. He smiled and replied, "My apologies, Highness. I didn't expect an interview this morning, but I'm, uh, glad to meet you. Prince Iroh has spoken of you nonstop since word of your return reached us last month. How can I serve?"

Xian walked up to the guardrail of the terrace and looked out over the garden.

"As I'm sure you know, our glorious ruler has charged me with a great task. To do this I need more than new technology. I need officers who can help me lead this army to victory. I asked Iroh to suggest some names and he came up with yours." Xian turned and met Nikon's eyes as he concluded.

The remains of Nikon's blush drained away as the implication of Xian's statement burned through his brain. _That son of a bitch!_ he thought, bitterly._ I'll kill him!_

Recovering fast, Nikon responded, "But your Highness, I have no combat experience and I'm just a commoner. I don't think I have much to offer you."

"You think so?" remarked Xian in surprise, "There are more important things than family background. I need people of ability and determination. Iroh tells me that you were rejected from the Fire Nation Military Academy because your father was a pauper. However, you didn't let that stop you. After teaching yourself the basics, you persuaded Master Chen himself to help complete your skills. Now you train recruits for the army on Showa Field, is that right?"

Bowing his head slightly, Nikon replied, "Yes, your Highness. That is how I came to meet your cousin. It was just a few months after you left with General Shu, I believe." Nikon's mind ran furiously as he tried to think of a way to decline the "honor" the Prince was trying to bestow upon him. But how he could tell one of the most illustrious figures in the land that he had taken up firebending to impress a prostitute he'd had a crush on long ago?

To his horror, Xian put his hand on Nikon's shoulder and continued in a fatherly tone, "He told me, in fact, that you are loyal to three things, to your friends, to the Fire Lord, and to the truth. Now that's a _wonderful_ thing to say about a person. I'd be delighted if he said something like that about me!"

"Oh, Iroh worships you!" Iroh's friend gushed involuntarily.

"Does he really?" Xian remarked, genuinely pleased. He removed his hand from Nikon's shoulder and placed it back on the guardrail, "Well, well! He's a fine man, you know, and will be a great Fire Lord one day," then with a trace of mirth, " – even if he does have the temper of a pregnant rhinoceros."

Nikon's eyes bulged out at this comment. Although Iroh and he frequently traded friendly barbs in private, Nikon had never before heard anyone characterize the Crown Prince that way.

Xian laughed and waved his hand dismissively, "Oh, what? You think I didn't know? Haha! Iroh is a true son of the Fire Nation, but I have high hopes that he will mellow in his old age."

"Hehe, I'm not sure we'll have any luck with that, your Highness."

Smiling wryly, Xian replied, "You know him well, I see."

"He's my best friend."

"Good, I'm glad. He has need of loyal friends. I ask again, will you join us?"

Ashamed, but unwilling to betray Iroh's testimonial to his honesty, Nikon replied, "Prince, I don't know what else Iroh has told you, but I'm not a warrior. I took up firebending for the wrong reasons, and though I enjoy what I do, I don't really consider myself brave." Stealing himself for a dismissal or worse, he continued, "The truth is, every day we hear more bad news from the front and we see more urns unloaded at the Naval yard. I… I don't want to end up in one of them."

Nikon dropped his gaze to look down at his feet. His head felt heavy, as if gravity were working twice as hard to pull him to the ground. He had not expected the morning to go this way, and at this rate he'd be better off going back to his father's house and hiding in the basement. That is, if Prince Xian didn't have him executed for the cowardice he'd just confessed.

After a moment, Xian spoke. "Look at me."

Nikon complied, meeting the Prince's steady gaze. "You _are_ brave. You just told the truth, however ugly, to someone who might have killed you if they didn't like the answer. There is no shame in wanting to live, Nikon, and there is no honor or sense in wanting to die for the Fire Lord. I need good men, men of substance, virtue and ability to even have a hope of turning this around. I can't do this alone. Iroh can't do this alone. The fact is our nation is losing this war, and we are pledging our lives, fortunes and sacred honor to the task of redeeming the blood of our fathers and brothers who have passed before us. Will you not help?"

Nikon opened his mouth to protest again, but the words died on his lips. After a moment he replied, "I will, your Highness."

* * *

By late morning the clouds had blown away without even a drop of rain, leaving a gloriously sunny day. Iroh and Nikon each stood several feet from the other near the center of the Palace's smaller agni kai arena. Their breathing was labored and sweat rolled down their bare chests. They had been sparring for some time.

"You're a son of a bitch!" spat Nikon through gritted teeth as he split apart a blast of fire from Iroh, his hands steepled in front of him.

"Serves you right, my friend! It's about time you did something constructive instead of…" Iroh struggled to regain his breath, "…spending your nights whoring around the city!"

"Yeh, well, I notice I'm not alone on these nights you speak of, though I've never seen you get much whoring done!"

Iroh aimed a blast of fire at Nikon's lower body. His friend rolled gracefully out of the way and rose to his feet very near Iroh. Nikon turned and swept Iroh's feet out from under him with one of his own in a very liquid maneuver. As he fell, Nikon delivered a blow to Iroh's chest.

The Prince fell to the ground hard, but managed to dissipate some of the force of his collapse by falling flat. Nikon stepped forward. Dark and brooding he loomed over Iroh, his eyes burning with angry fire, his right arm extended in a firebending stance. Iroh shook his head to clear it and looked up. The sun behind Nikon allowed the Prince to see only his silhouette. A drop of salty sweat trickled down into Iroh's eye and began to sting him. Both breathed heavily for a moment in the silence.

Then Iroh laughed, a full belly laugh, though his stomach was taught and his chest muscular. He grabbed his friends outstretched fist with both hands and used it to pull himself to his feet. The fire in Nikon's eyes had died away, leaving only a hollow, downcast look.

"It was a dirty trick," The pauper's son accused sullenly.

"Yes, wasn't it? I knew you wouldn't have any trouble saying "no" to me – you've saved my life once already, but Xian, well, who can refuse my cousin anything? Besides, I could always have gotten an order from my father if I had to. But, would I really have had to do that?"

Nikon looked up at Iroh and then around them at the empty stands before replying.

"No. I've been ashamed for too long, I guess. This is the chance to do something about it. But, I'm not a hero, Iroh. Not like you and Xian. You deserve to be great. I'm just a poor man's son trying to stay alive."

Iroh's smile faded and was replaced with a frown. "If that's what you think, then that's all you'll ever be! Sentiments like that reek of self pity. Put those thoughts away, my friend. You have been called for a different destiny! Accept it. Soon enough I think you'll find that you can survive quite well without the delights of the capital."

A knowing smile spread over Nikon's face as he quoted his friend, saying, "Oh yes, I'll live, but I won't enjoy it. Besides," he continued as his smile became smug, "I know my presence will torture Tien Shin every day we're out there. At least that's something."

The pair retrieved their clothes from the ground nearby and exited the arena. The path up to the hill to the Palace was broken gravel down at this end, but turned quickly into a brick walkway further up. As they began their ascent, several figures came down to meet them. All three carried bows slung across their backs and were evidently headed to the archery range. One of these newcomers was Tien Shin.

Laughing Nikon remarked, "Oh, ho! Speak of the demon himself and he appears! How convenient. You going to let me kill him this time?"

"No," replied the Prince, "If anyone gets to do that, it's going to be me. Just keep quiet."

As the two groups prepared to pass each other, Tien Shin held up a hand to stop his party. Iroh and Nikon stopped as well.

"What do you want, Tien Shin?" asked Iroh bluntly.

"Your Highness," said Nikon with both a sneer and a slight bow in greeting.

Tien Shin's eyes passed briefly over the pauper's son before fixing on Iroh.

"Greetings, brother. Wasting your time again with the peasantry, I see? How sad to see the Crown Prince abase himself in such an unseemly manner. One never ceases to wonder what you see in someone of such low birth."

Unable to resist the opening Nikon replied, "Well, I'll ask Xi Shi after I lie with her tonight. She's told me many times –"

Nikon cut himself off in mid retort as the blade of a beautiful blue enamel war fan was suddenly pressed against his throat. Whatever else he was, Tien Shin was fast. At the first mention of the stolen courtesan, he had drawn his weapon, unfolded it and placed it in the perfect position to cut his jugular. After a moment of silence, Tien Shin smiled and began to speak in his most calculated tone.

"I beg your pardon, have I interrupted your train of thought?" he asked in a mock conversational tone, "Hmm? I guess you weren't saying anything important. That's not unusual."

Tien Shin turned with a look of intense hatred as Iroh grabbed his wrist and pushed his arm and the offending fan away from his friend. Nikon's body relaxed and he took a step back, exhaling the breath he'd been unconsciously retaining.

"Enough, Tien Shin! Your arrogance and audacity astound even me! How dare you take a weapon to a friend of the Crown Prince?"

In one step Iroh stood almost nose to nose with his step brother and, pointing an accusatory figure, bellowed, "Are you so eager for a fight dear "brother"? The agni kai arena stands ready for us. Make your challenge now, or stand aside!"

Tien Shin, several inches taller than Iroh, looked down into the Crown Prince's eyes with cool disdain. Iroh looked back, his cheeks flushed red, and his own eyes ablaze with indignation.

"We have a common enemy to fight, Prince Iroh," lectured Tien Shin, his trademark expression of smugness returning to his face, "I suggest we focus our efforts where they belong. That is the kind of common sense that every ruler needs."

Iroh and Nikon watched in silence as Tien Shin turned and led his party down the path past the agni kai arena.

"I hope you don't take this the wrong way," began Nikon, "but I hope that guy dies while we're over there."

"You're not alone."


	6. The War College

_Avatar: The Last Airbender_ Created By: Michael Dante DiMartino, Bryan Konietzko  
_Avatar: The Last Airbender_ Owned By: Nickelodeon, a subsidiary of Viacom  
All original content and characters © Acastus

* * *

**  
Chapter VI – The War College**

Shadows danced around the throne room of the Fire Lord. The members of the War College not on campaign sat cross legged around the enormous world map that covered much of the floor. Numerous colored tiles on the map recorded current and proposed future positions of various military units.

Prince Xian stood at the head of the map facing the Fire Lord's throne. Iroh stood on his right, Tien Shin on his left. Xian had spent the last hour explaining his plans in detail for the spring offensive now only a few months away. The grim figure of Fire Lord Azulon watched dully from his throne on the dais. He had spoken not a word since his terse greeting to Xian when the former had entered the chamber with his two feuding lieutenants.

"In summary, my Lords," concluded Xian in his clear, confident voice, "we will land not at Mequon, as the enemy almost certainly expects, but more than a hundred leagues north, in the Gulf of Gela." Xian pointed at the rim of the sparsely populated coast. "There we will join the rest of the Army of the Great Divide, and invade the Nasu Plain from the northwest after crossing the Arno River. When we threaten the rich cities of the Nasu from this unexpected quarter there will be panic. Nifong will attack, he must, and when he does we will destroy him."

A few moments of silence passed before a middle aged man with a shock of grey hair spoke, "I admire your confidence, General Xian. You do realize that landing in the gulf will put the Dune Sea between your army and Mequon, the nearest major Fire Nation base?"

"Yes, Field Marshal Jeong Jeong," Xian replied, "As I said earlier, we have no intention of entering the Dune Sea and we're confident Nifong won't either. At least, he has never gone into the desert before. Since his forces will still be more mobile than ours, I believe cutting the maneuvering room will work to our general advantage. Also, at the Fire Lord's order, Chieng Shiung herself will be joining us to set up the supply staging area in the gulf. With her assistance, I will personally ensure that the logistics are well managed."

Jeong Jeong grunted his acceptance of the explanation, before continuing, "Your plan also relies heavily on the performance of the new armored vehicles. Can you report to us on the results of the training and field tests of these weapons so far?"

"Of course, the field tests have shown that the tank armor is strong enough to deflect almost any stone bombardment. They can take a direct hit from stones up to…"

Xian turned to Tien Shin who supplied without hesitation, "Up to almost a ton without any significant damage, Field Marshal. Further, in combat our tanks will be moving fast enough that they will be hard to hit by all except the most skilled earthbenders. Our men will be able to strike with virtual impunity. We have little to fear from Nifong with these new mobile forces."

Jeong Jeong turned his steady gaze to Tien Shin, took his measure and questioned, "You are in command of the mobile forces are you not?"

"I am," replied the Prince with some pride.

"And on what evidence do you base this conclusion?"

Slightly taken aback, Tien Shin answered, 'The field tests…"

"…are not sufficient evidence to justify your asinine assumption that we have nothing to fear from the enemy," Jeong Jeong finished sternly. "Nifong has been handing arrogant Fire Nation commanders their heads for twenty years now and if you aren't careful, you'll end up just like them. What do your brigade leaders say, hmm? Do _they_ agree with your optimistic assessment?"

Tien Shin's eyes narrowed dangerously as he replied, "The ones with sound judgment agree with me, yes."

"Commanders Ryu and Nikon do not agree," spoke a man with short white hair several places down from Jeong Jeong.

Tien Shin turned to face this new opponent and spoke, the trace of an edge to his voice, "As I said, Master Chen, the leaders with sound judgment agree with my assessment. Commander Nikon, at least," Tien Shin's taut features relaxed into a smile as he continued, "has been the subject of several disciplinary actions already. It is unclear whether he will even be permitted to join us on the campaign."

"Oh?" replied Chen softly, "I've known Nikon for all his adult life and trained him in firebending. When he applies his mind, he is neither impulsive nor rash in his judgment. A wise commander, Prince, understands the value of different viewpoints. Perhaps you should pay more attention to the opinions of those on whom your life may depend in battle."

Enraged, Tien Shin retorted, "I doubt my life will depend on the opinion of an insignificant slave like him, Master Chen, no matter who his friends are."

Iroh drew breath to respond, but Xian turned to his cousin with a raised hand and a plea in his eyes. Iroh exhaled without speaking, his eyes still fixed on Tien Shin. Xian turned back to his _daimyo_ and replied firmly, "You go too far, Tien Shin. Commander Nikon's inability to hide his personal disdain for certain of his colleagues does not diminish the validity of his assessment in this matter. Personally, I see both great strengths and significant weaknesses with these machines."

As Xian finished Iroh was finally able to add with an accusatory finger pointed at his step brother, "Nikon is right Tien Shin, you are just too blind to see it!"

"To see what, Prince Iroh? What is the matter here?" The irritated question had come from the dais, and all eyes turned to its occupant.

Recognizing the dangerous tone in his father's voice, Iroh replied, "Father, it is clear that these machines are, in fact, the mighty weapons we hoped them to be. Tien Shin does not exaggerate the machine's ability to withstand earthbending attacks, but equally clear are its many drawbacks." Iroh paused a moment to collect his thoughts. Then, at a slow and measured pace he began to count off each reason, "They are huge, loud, and slower than our own cavalry, let alone General Nifong's. They consume a tremendous amount of fuel and apparently need hours of maintenance every day,' then turning back to his enemy, Iroh continued with rising heat, "It makes no sense to just keep congratulating ourselves on how smart we are for creating these things when what we should be focusing on is learning how best to use them!"

"Are we to understand, then, that you disagree with General Xian's plan, Iroh?" came Tien Shin's silky reply.

Iroh laughed at this obvious trap and replied, "Oh, very smooth, "brother"! Of course I support Xian's plan. It calls for drawing Nifong into attacking our armor, _not_ vice versa. That will eliminate their speed advantage and as long as the ground is relatively dry and stone free, we should achieve the victory we seek."

"Caution," Xian broke in, "is advisable in this situation for many reasons. Iroh and Nikon are correct in their assessment of both the strengths and the weaknesses of this new technology. Chieng Shiung is making improvements to the machines every day, however, and for that reason I'm confident that we'll be able to overcome some of the defects in short order."

"On the other hand, the army will consist of one part inexperienced men, and the other part demoralized men who have been beaten now by General Nifong many times. We must work toward several small, quick victories while looking for an opportunity to force the enemy to attack us on favorable ground at a time of our choosing."

"_Caution_, General," disagreed the Fire Lord in an acid tone, "is what has brought us year after year of disgraceful news from the front. Your initial plan of attack is appropriate, but what is this I am hearing from you now? Inexperience and morale as excuses for inaction? Such pronouncements stink of defeatism. Find the enemy, destroy him and both your problems will be solved! Your father won his victories with bold strokes, Xian, and that is what I look for in his son."

Xian looked down, embarrassed at the admonishment from the Fire Lord, "Forgive me, Uncle. I will not disappoint you or the memory of my father by failing in the task you have given me. I will engage and defeat the enemy before the end of summer as you have instructed."

A middle aged man with a cruel face and black hair who sat across from Master Chen spoke next, "We cannot afford to dither, General Xian. Tien Shin is right for more reasons than he has articulated. Technology advantages, however real, are notoriously temporary. You must use the advantage these weapons afford us to achieve a quick, decisive victory over the enemy before they find a way to neutralize it."

Jeong Jeong, shaking his head in barely suppressed anger, replied, "Even if that is the case, General Cho, that is hardly justification for sending barely trained troops into high risk combat situations that –"

"Enough of this bickering!" thundered the Fire Lord from the dais. Jeong Jeong stilled himself instantly, his anger cooling. He looked down at the map on the floor, an impassive expression sliding down like a veil over his face.

"General Xian," Azulon continued, "are you prepared to execute this plan?"

"I am, Lord Azulon. Do I have your approval?"

"You have my support, General," the Fire Lord corrected severely, "I approve nothing until it is an undisputed success," Azulon then looked from side to side, panning his gaze across the chamber before continuing, "This council is ended. Leave, all of you! I wish to speak to Prince Iroh alone."

Iroh stood in silence, steeling himself for what he knew was coming, as the members of the War College rose and exited. Xian bowed low and withdrew, followed by Tien Shin who bowed low to the Fire Lord and slightly to Iroh before exiting.

As the echoes of the last footsteps died away, Fire Lord Azulon spoke, his voice like a razor, "Speak, Prince Iroh. You _obviously_ have something to say."

Iroh hesitated, momentarily flummoxed, but frustration and anger welling up within supplied the question that had been burning him for months since the Harvest Moon Feast, "Father, why did you appoint Tien Shin _daimyo_ instead of me? He has no more combat experience than I do!"

Azulon snorted and replied in a softer tone, "So there it is, finally. If you're so interested in the politics of my leadership decisions, you're asking the wrong question. But, I can see why you focus on this."

"I am not accountable to you, Prince Iroh, but I shall answer you nonetheless, because I expect you to work with Tien Shin and obey him as long as he is your superior officer. Is that clear?"

The Fire Lord's son glowered, but replied, "It is, Father."

"Tien Shin is _daimyo_ because of the fear he will inspire in the officer corps. He is not the only successful state prosecutor, but he is by far the most feared. The Earth Kingdom and its allies are powerful enemies to be sure, Prince Iroh, but far more dangerous are those who plot assassination and insurrection within our own ranks. Remember the lessons of the Civil War which your grandfather Sozin and I fought!"

"I had not considered this, Father. But why do you trust _him_? His ambition is limitless!"

"I trust no one, Iroh. You are my eldest child and one day you will rule this nation and the world as Fire Lord. I pray you carve into your heart the bitter lessons I have learned before you take my place."

Anger welling up within him Iroh replied, "What lessons, Father? I see only that Tien Shin has acquired tremendous power by putting honest men to death for treasons that probably never happened! Most of those he has had condemned were never our enemies! And those that were may not have been if we'd done things differently!"

"And I tell you they were!" thundered the Fire Lord as he rose out of his seat. Father and son locked eyes for a few moments in silent conflict before Iroh looked down at the floor. Azulon sat down once again and allowed a few moments of silence to pass before continuing in a softer voice.

"You have not yet learned, my son, that you are and always will be surrounded by enemies, as I have been. In the government, the War College, even your own family."

A strange look spread over the Fire Lord's face as he concluded, "You are correct that Tien Shin's ambition is not to be taken lightly. However, this is your problem. My concern is that Nifong is eliminated by the end of next summer. This is your goal, as well as Tien Shin's and Xian's. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Father."

"Then you are dismissed, Prince Iroh, my son."


	7. The Road To War

_Avatar: The Last Airbender_ Created By: Michael Dante DiMartino, Bryan Konietzko  
_Avatar: The Last Airbender_ Owned By: Nickelodeon, a subsidiary of Viacom  
All original content and characters © Acastus

* * *

**  
Chapter VII – The Road To War**

"Ohhh! You've got to dismiss _me_ for a toilet break! Please! I swear I'm about to float away here!"

Trimazu's booming voice brought the audience back to the present with an almost audible crash. Gao, who a moment ago had delivered the Fire Lord's final command, dropped the arm he had just used in an imperious gesture of dismissal. The audience began to titter as their host jumped up from his seat, evidently in some distress, and began to jog as fast as his portly frame would allow toward the exit.

As Trimazu gained the doorway, he turned and announced without a trace of shame, "Potty break, my friends! Let's all refresh ourselves before we continue. I shall return presently."

With that the merchant of Shanxi disappeared through the door. The room filled instantly with the low buzz of dozens of conversations, most of which contained various expressions of shock at their host's latest faux pas. Several guests, including Chen Ho, rose from their seats and followed Trimazu, presumably to find the washroom. An attendant ran forward to Gao with a curule chair. The storyteller accepted the proffered seat with a smile as well as the glass of water the servant offered next.

Iroh's expression during the first part of the tale had remained carefully controlled. His gaze fixed on the floor, the retired general had successfully avoided eye contact with his nephew and everyone else. Beneath his stoic countenance, however, his spirit was in turmoil. How strange and disturbing it was to hear one's life recounted by another in such a public venue.

Worst of all, old wounds long since healed now bled again freely. Iroh thought the hurt of Xian's passing had long since faded, but he was wrong. He was surprised at the sharpness of the pain that stabbed his heart as the storyteller played his cousin. Either through skill or, perhaps, direct observation, Gao had even mastered many of Xian's mannerisms. Iroh clenched his fist tightly at the memories, fighting back tears for the umpteenth time that evening.

A surprisingly gentle touch on his right hand prompted him to open his eyes and look over at his nephew. A slight shock ran through the retired General as he suddenly realized that he had forgotten to release his grip on Zuko's arm. More surprising still was the knowledge that his nephew had allowed him to hold on for so long. The moment now passed, the banished Prince removed his uncle's hand.

"Uncle," Zuko, his eyes wide, began in a low voice, "is any of this true?"

"Much of it, yes," replied the retired general in a whisper.

Zuko felt suddenly ashamed at how little he really knew of his uncle's past. Though young, he remembered many of the events of the siege of Ba-Sing-Se and its aftermath. He even recalled the glorious triumph Iroh celebrated on his return from the Battle of Five Forks. Zuko had been thrilled when he was allowed to ride with his uncle in the parade. But those events now seemed distant, unreal, as if part of a play or even the story being told them tonight. The sudden realization of this disconnect with the one man who cared for him added to his feelings of shame and isolation.

"I'm sorry, uncle, this must be painful for you." Despite his curiosity to hear the rest of the tale, Zuko took pity on his guardian, "Why don't we just leave? We've had our fill."

Iroh considered this, but rejected it quietly, "No, not only would that be rude to a host that has treated us with genuine kindness, but it would also draw too much attention. It is better to endure, enjoy a good night's rest if we can, and leave in peace." Then, even though he did not himself believe it, "After all, it is only a story."

A few minutes of silence passed between them before Zuko finally yielded to his curiosity and asked, "Who was this Nikon, uncle? You've never spoken of him before."

Iroh drew breath to respond, but was preempted by the return of their host. He swept through the door like an emperor, in complete command of his surroundings.

"Pardon, dear guests, but I'm sure you'll be thrilled to know I feel at least ten pounds lighter!" Trimazu patted his enormous bulk for emphasis as he proceeded back to his seat. Chortles were heard round the room at this totally unnecessary announcement. Governor Tao shook his head slowly in an express of both disbelief and exasperation.

Chen Ho followed Trimazu through the door, remarking snidely, "Well, not to worry, there's still plenty of you left to go around."

Ignoring this barb the host sat down and replied, "So Chen Ho, did you enjoy using my new guest bathroom? I believe it's larger than your whole entrance hall! Why, the glazing _alone_ cost eight hundred gold pieces," then leaning towards his neighbor he emphasized with glee, "_eight hundred!_ Haha!"

Chen Ho snorted in disgust as he reclaimed his seat. With a snap of his fingers he signaled a nearby servant for a refill of his wine. Chen routinely found himself drinking heavily whenever he was required to attend one of Trimazu's "events." This inevitably resulted in a loud exchange of insults which some viewed as the highlight of the entertainment. Most, however, dreaded the altercations as just another impropriety they were forced to suffer. Strong drink had been flowing freely, so tonight would prove no exception.

Trimazu then continued, saying to no one in particular, "And how about that Nikon? He's my kind of fellow. I'm partial to rogues, of course, and if I remember the stories right he was quite the ladies man." Then with mock sincerity and an exaggerated sigh, "Ah, he reminds me of myself when I was young!"

"Oh please, Trimazu," Chen Ho shot back acidly, "Gao gave at least some indication that this Nikon was good looking, which certainly rules out any comparison with _you_. Everyone knows you remain unmarried because your morbid obesity would scare a canyon crawler into fits."

"Why Chen Ho," their host replied with delight, "I believe you're actually developing a wit! Perhaps your brain is finally beginning to work? Of course, it's entirely due to my influence, you mustn't take any credit."

"And, as a matter of fact, I was in love once, but it didn't work out. Different worlds, you see? Now that I'm rich, though, I get marriage proposals at least once a week. The latest was from Lau Bei Fong from down south. He wants me to marry his twelve year old daughter. Do you _believe_ that?"

Once again adopting his conspiratorial tone Trimazu leaned over to address Iroh, "It's positively _immoral_! These snobs look down at farting in public, but will gladly sell their _own_ _daughter_ to a man they hardly even know, half a world away – just to stop me from ruining their iron and nickel business! It's _scandalous_! I have half a mind to take them up on the offer, just to rescue the poor little soul from such horrendous parents!" He nodded once quickly for emphasis before turning back to the storyteller who waited patiently.

"Gao!" he barked.

The old storyteller rose from his seat and the guests began to quiet as fast as if the lights had been dimmed in a playhouse. He bowed once to the audience then turned back to Trimazu and enquired, "Shall I continue, Master?"

The merchant lowered his wine glass after a long drink, burped, and replied, "By all means, my good man. Now that my bowels have been evacuated, I think we should continue. You had just finished telling us about Iroh's unhappy chat with old Azulon. What a miserable old man. Glad I wasn't there!"

"As it happens," the storyteller began as he turned back to his audience, "that's exactly how most members of the War College felt, and perhaps even Prince Xian…"

* * *

Xian and Iroh looked out from under the awning of the command tent. The capital's naval base bustled with activity below them. Dozens of Fire Nation warships lined the docks and hundreds of yard workers busied themselves loading the ships with the supplies and instruments of war. 

Yet to be loaded, but lined up in neat rows on the shore were the tanks that now made up the main body of the Fire Nation land forces. They were large, ugly metal contraptions whose unpainted steel reflected dully in the failing light of the early evening.

Iroh adjusted his heavy coat as a rare snowfall began to descend from the heavens. Spring was now less than a month away, but winter still held its icy grip over the Fire Nation. After observing the scene for a few moments, Xian broke the silence, "So, how did it go after the rest of us were dismissed?"

Iroh did not reply. His eyes remained fixed on the scene below.

"You're still angry about Tien Shin," stated Xian simply as he turned and sat down at a table loaded with tea and refreshments behind them.

Iroh turned to his cousin and suddenly shouted, "Of course I am, Xian! Why shouldn't I be? Why aren't _you_? He patronizes you as much he flaunts his contempt for me!" Beside himself, Iroh continued, "You know what he's doing, don't you?"

"Peace, cousin," implored Xian, offering Iroh a steaming cup, "Sit down and have some nice, calming tea."

"I don't _want_ any calming tea!" Iroh spread his hands wide in a gesture of frustration, "Don't you understand? Step by step Tien Shin is removing everyone who's a threat to him and paving the way for his own ambitions – and Father is helping him do it!"

Xian regarded his cousin coolly. Slowly he put the cup back down on the table. "How much of this did you say to the Fire Lord?"

His anger ebbing, the Crown Prince sat down heavily and admitted, "Pretty much all of it."

"That may not have been wise."

"I don't care." Iroh replied glumly.

"Yes, you do." Xian contradicted confidently, "What else did he say?"

"Nothing much. Something about asking the wrong question if I was so interested in his decisions. It didn't mean very much to me."

Xian took his tea cup and leaned forward, cradling it in his hands for warmth. After a moment or two of silence he replied, "You've been upset that Tien Shin was made _daimyo_ instead of you. Fair enough. He's a filthy blackguard who, I'm sure, the Fire Lord has promoted into this position to discourage insurrection."

Iroh's eyes went wide at his cousin's insight. "Uh, yes, that's exactly what he said." How could Xian know this?

"But, has the question never crossed your mind why he put _me_ in command?"

The question was sudden and at first, quite preposterous to Iroh. He replied without thinking, "Well, of course you should be in command, cousin. There is no other suitable candidate for this honor!" replied Iroh in a shocked tone.

"Oh? What about Master Chen? Or Field Marshall Jeong Jeong? You know and respect them both. Their experience is far greater than mine."

"I had… forgotten them."

"Do you still not understand why Uncle has put me in command?"

"What do you mean?"

"Have you not heard the whispers, cousin? They say the Fire Lord fears another rebellion if he places the power of this new technology into the hands of anyone but a member of the royal family. Worse, they say if he took command himself – and lost – it would surely ignite the civil war that all fear." Xian took a sip of the tea he had offered Iroh and concluded, "They are right."

"So, what of it? Father is paranoid. We know this. That doesn't mean you are any less suitable to lead."

"True, but it doesn't make me any more suitable either. Uncle is taking a terrible risk, Iroh. He is trying to balance the need for strong leadership and experience against a powerful external enemy with the need for loyalty." Xian looked down and with simple dignity uttered the truth he had known since the night of the Harvest Moon Feast, "I am not the best choice to command this army, just as Tien Shin is not the best choice to be _daimyo_. My concern is for our men and our nation. This campaign could yield the victory we seek, Iroh, but it could also be our end. My dreams are so dark."

A few moments of silence passed as Iroh looked closely at his cousin. The anger that had animated him for most of the conversation evaporated instantly. Xian, whom Iroh had always known as a pillar of strength and wisdom, seemed somehow to shrink amidst the uncharacteristic expressions of doubt and foreboding on his face. He was clearly upset to have spoken so to the Crown Prince.

Trying to find words of comfort for a man he admired and loved Iroh began, "I would choose no one else, cousin." The Crown Prince smiled and continued, "So get used to use it. When I am Fire Lord, hopefully many, many years from now, I too will settle for no one other than you in times of trouble. Especially since I doubt I'll be able to tear Nikon away from whatever brothel he's currently frequenting."

Xian looked up and rewarded his cousin with a little laugh. Then in a serious tone, "You will make an excellent Fire Lord, Iroh. I hope I live to see it."

Iroh frowned at this, saying, "None of that, cousin! I forbid it. We will be victorious, we have no choice." Looking down himself, Iroh continued, "I won't give you up."

Then the Crown Prince raised his head and locked eyes with his cousin, an impish grin on his face "Tien Shin, on the other hand, I would gladly hand over to Nifong with a thousand gold pieces and the governorship of any province he wants!"

Xian laughed as Iroh poured himself some tea. "Ah, you'll join me for some tea after all, then?"

"Yes, on second thought, maybe some nice, calming tea would be good."

* * *

After finishing their tea the pair caught a carriage down to Showa Field. The infantry were assembling there for inspection that afternoon and Xian insisted that he conduct these exercises personally. Xian dozed much of the trip as Iroh looked out the window. 

As the carriage mounted the hill overlooking the training grounds the sound of someone grabbing the exterior cleats was heard. Nikon's face then popped in through the window, startling both of the passengers.

"Welcome, General Xian, Prince Iroh," Nikon inclined his head in a slight bow to each of them as he hung onto the moving carriage, "You're going to be early. We should be ready in about twenty minutes. I just learned Chieng Shung won't be here for another hour or two, though."

Recovering from Nikon's sudden appearance Xian responded, "Greetings, Commander. Why won't Chieng be here on time?"

"I don't know. She didn't give a reason. We were supposed to have met her weeks ago when we first found out we were having so much trouble with the fuel filters, but she's blown us off every time. What's her problem?"

Xian coughed and replied, "Well, let's just say she's like her father."

Iroh raised an eyebrow at this, for he had never met Chieng either. Her father's surly behavior was just as legendary among the nobility, however, as was his inventive genius.

"Why? What was he like, General?" asked Nikon.

"He was an arrogant, nasty old man. But…," Xian continued with a slight, knowing smile, "you may like her. Or appreciate her at any rate."

"Oh?"

At that moment the carriage came to a sudden, lurching halt. Nikon was almost thrown, but managed to hold on. The tank commander jumped off the carriage's sideboard as Xian and Iroh got out to investigate the source of the delay.

Their carriage was driving through the training base at the edge of the main training grounds. A dozen state barouches were parked in front of the headquarter building. A party of men had just exited. They were escorting a figure in white towards the parked carriages. As they drew nearer the identity of those at the head of the procession became clear.

A company of military police were escorting Master Chen, his hands bound in chains. He was flanked by Tien Shin on one side and by Yotaku Macro, the infamously cruel Commander of the Fire Lord's Guard.

"What is this? Master Chen – what's happened? Why are you with these guards and that – that…" Nikon sputtered, pointing at Tien Shin as he searched for the words to express his shock.

"Master Chen is under arrest for treason," Tien Shin supplied.

The prisoner looked solemnly at his former student, then turned to Iroh and explained in his sonorous voice, "It seems I made some disparaging remarks at dinner a few months ago about your father. I don't recall them."

Shaking his head incredulously, Iroh addressed his step brother, "This is nonsense, Tien Shin! This time you've gone too far – you'll be laughed out of Court for this."

"I don't think so, Prince Iroh. Now stand aside. I am on state business and may not be interfered with – even by the Fire Lord's son!"

Thrusting Nikon out of the way, Tien Shin marched past Iroh and Xian with his prize. The prisoner was loaded into the closest carriage and spirited away before any of them could utter another word.


	8. Painting the Town Red

_Avatar: The Last Airbender Created By: Michael Dante DiMartino, Bryan Konietzko  
Avatar: The Last Airbender Owned By: Nickelodeon, a subsidiary of Viacom  
All original content and characters © Acastus_

_Author's Note: Thanks for all the great reviews, folks! And thanks once again for your patience! Updating ASN, San Diego Comic Con and all sorts of things have been happening, but I'm glad I now have some time for this story. I hope you enjoy!_

* * *

****

**  
Chapter VIII – Painting The Town Red **

Iroh had stopped drinking long ago. So had Gan. Both looked across the rough iron table in concern at Nikon, the hoods of their black cloaks leaving their faces in shadows. The young commoner had not stopped drinking. It was now long past midnight and it had been more than an hour since Xian had given them the ominous news.

The General had met them at the seedy _Ten Bells_ tavern where they now sat. Lying in the middle of the infamous Shinjuku section of the city, the _Ten Bells_ and its neighboring establishments were notorious for both the routine acts of violence that played out within their walls and as houses of ill repute. Dark, dangerous and heavily overpopulated, Shinjuku was the lowest of the slums whose streets were ruled by gangs of vicious thugs. Nikon had never taken Iroh to such a place before and, looking around and breathing deep, Iroh was glad this was so.

The tavern was a single, cavernous room with high ceilings and no windows. The walls were lined with booths made of wood and tables of iron, all except the east wall which was occupied by the bar. The booth in which Iroh and his friends sat was directly opposite the bar. Two huge fire pits provided the main sources of warmth and light for the dirty establishment, though a few sorry looking brassieres burned along the wall above every other booth. The tavern was loud, packed with people, and smelled like a toilet. Everyone except the bartenders and prostitutes, however, were obviously drunk beyond caring.

Against Iroh's advice, Nikon had dragged them out for a night on the town in a vain attempt to drown their collective sorrow at Master Chen's arrest. Xian had volunteered to petition Azulon for Chen's release. However, it had not gone well…

* * *

_The door to the tavern banged open. Xian stood in the doorway, unrecognizable in his dark brown cloak to all but Iroh and his friends. Behind him the wind whipped a cold rain into the entryway. Their commanding officer shut the door, approached them and sat down heavily._

_"He won't have it. The Fire Lord refused to dismiss the charges."_

_Iroh clenched a fist as the anger against his father and Tien Shin welled up within him._

_"But why?" asked Nikon, grabbing the edges of the table, his whole body tensing in visible frustration._

_"Tien Shin has him convinced Master Chen was plotting rebellion along with conspirators unknown."_

_Iroh squeezed his eyes shut at the pronouncement. It meant death._

_"Based on what evidence?" asked Gan softly._

_"Is any required, Gan?" retorted Nikon in anger._

_"No names!" hissed Iroh, his eyes darting around the crowded tavern to see if anyone had overhead. Gan was the second son of General Shu and occupied an important post in the Ministry of War. Addressing him by his name – or certainly that of the Crown Prince or his cousin would instantly turn the situation into an uncontrollable circus. Admonished by his friend, Nikon looked down sullenly at the half empty glass of liquor in front of him. He finished the drink in one swift motion, hardly noticimg the burning liquid coarse down his throat._

_Xian looked around quickly as well before addressing Iroh, "And that's another thing. This was a stupid idea. It's your business what you did with your friends before you were assigned to me. But if we're exposed here the scandal would destroy our reputations. Besides, these streets are crawling with thugs who delight in terrorizing the streets."_

_Almost on cue, the room came to a standstill as a fight broke out at the bar. A thin young woman with garish makeup and revealing dress had just broken a glass pitcher over the head of a huge, heavy set man wearing a hooded cloak. She screamed as the heavy set man grabbed her by the hair and slapped her to the ground. A man in leather armor tried to intervene, but the heavy set man picked him up and casually threw him over the bar._

_The woman's antagonist then moved toward her once again. He was stopped by the tallest of his equally hooded comrades. The tall man whispered something in the heavy set man's ear as several large bouncers approached, their fists aflame. The hooded figures left the tavern, followed closely by the bouncers who accused them loudly of being gangland scum. It was the fourth such altercation, and probably the least violent, that Iroh and his friends had seen in the short time they'd been there._

_As the fascination around the latest spectacle dissipated, Iroh began, "I should have spoken to Father, cousin. Maybe I could have done something."_

_"Be thankful you didn't. Not only would you have been no more successful, but you'd have set yourself up as an object of fear and suspicion in the eyes of the Fire Lord, as I have."_

_The Crown Prince refocused on his cousin with a sudden start. Gan, shaking his head slowly, swore under his breath. The heat and noise of the room suddenly receded in Iroh's perception as Xian's last three words echoed in his mind._

_"What do you mean?" he asked softly._

_The general turned his hooded head slightly from side to side once again. Leaning forward and dropping his voice even lower he replied, "It was as I feared. He knew, right from the start, that I was there to ask for Chen's release. He questioned my loyalty and hinted that I might even have been involved. I escaped death only by offering him my own sword to cut off my head. He declined, but after enough hesitation for me to know that I had rolled the dice – and lost."_

_The group fell silent as each weighed the import of this unhappy news. The raucous sounds and rank smells of the tavern, which had receded when Xian was speaking, now rushed in upon Iroh's senses. The Crown Prince surveyed the room as Xian reached over, stole his cup and drank a mouthful._

_"Was that how it ended?" asked Gan suddenly, breaking the group's sullen reverie._

_"Yes. He dismissed me with a warning to put my effort where it belonged."_

_"Do you suppose there was a conspiracy?"_

_Iroh snorted and replied, "Maybe, but Master Chen? He is a man of iron loyalty. Grandfather trusted him with his life. The whole idea is stupid."_

_Addressing Gan's original question Xian replied, "I can't get any answers. Several other arrests were made," then with a glance over at Nikon, who continued to look down at his drink in silence, "including several of Chen's current students."_

_"I don't understand," Iroh whispered in an intense voice, "Tien Shin can't just bury men of honor with a pretty tale."_

_"Why do you doubt the evidence of your eyes, cousin? Tien Shin has buried many men with his pretty tales, as you yourself have seen. Would you be all that surprised to hear after a few weeks that he killed himself after signing a confession? We've heard that before, and how many times?"_

_Nikon looked up at this and met Xian's eyes from underneath his hood._

_"They're as good as dead, aren't they?" he asked in a husky whisper, his expression hollow._

_Avoiding the question Xian replied, "We've one card left to play. If the weather breaks, I will move up the date for The Crossing. If he lives long enough Master Chen will still be prosecuted, but not by Tien Shin. I fear it may not alter the outcome, but it's all I can do. Now, I must leave this place, and I urge you three to do the same. Staying here in this squalor and depravity is surely proof of madness."_

_Without another word Xian finished Iroh's drink and left._

* * *

The next several hours had been spent rehashing the facts, debating various courses of action, and watching Nikon sorely test his legendary tolerance for alcohol. Iroh vacillated between anger at Tien Shin and his father and worry for Xian and his friend. Nikon for his part had sunk into an uncharacteristic brood. His face, normally graced with a smile, was now occupied by a vacant look and a drawn countenance. He barely participated in the conversation after Xian left. Gan, true to form, quietly and methodically tried to analyze the situation and produce alternatives. Though the effort was praiseworthy, no palatable option materialized. 

Events were proceeding too fast for Iroh and he reproached himself bitterly for not taking some decisive action to resolve the situation. Even as he savaged himself he knew there was little he could do. Regardless of the facts, Master Chen was now officially a traitor. Iroh did not believe Azulon truly suspected Xian of rebellion, but he was clearly angry with his cousin. Nikon, as a former student of a public enemy; that was different. How long could Iroh protect him? He made a silent prayer that Xian delivered on his promise to advance the date for the invasion. At this moment, the front lines might be the safest place for both his friend and his cousin.

Soon another fight erupted that involved almost twenty people, broke half a dozen tables and set several patrons on fire. The proprietors proceeded to throw everyone out with loud cursing and threats. Iroh and Gan were both relieved as they had tried and failed several times in the last hour to get Nikon to leave.

As they exited the tavern, their hoods still covering their faces, a woman's scream was heard nearby as well as the sound of a fight. Behind the tavern what seemed a few streets over a plume of flame went up. Iroh and Nikon looked at each for a split second before Nikon ran in the direction of the scream. Iroh and Gan followed, both cursing loudly. The tavern regulars exiting the establishment ran away from the sound of the disturbance as fast as their various states of inebriation allowed. It was well known that the gangs not only killed for money and plunder, but also tortured for pleasure.

The Crown Prince fought down terror as he ran behind his friend. Consciously forcing himself to relax, he began to regulate his breathing in preparation for the fight he felt was coming. As his gait settled into a sustainable rhythm, the words of Master Chen echoed in his mind, _"When he applies his mind, he is neither impulsive nor rash in his judgment."_ Sadly, Iroh was certain that his friend had applied very little of his mind in his decision to rush into whatever situation lay ahead of them. Though he had drunk heavily, Nikon's stride betrayed no undue influence, only his judgment did.

As they entered the area Nikon thought the sound and flame had come from, they realized the sound must have bounced strangely off the surrounding structures and that they had overshot. Nikon stopped for a moment, just long enough for his friends to catch up, then cut through an alley on their left back towards to the tavern. The sounds of the fight grew loud as they turned right into an adjacent alley.

As they ran down the narrow passageway Nikon was almost knocked over by two women, their clothing torn, running past them in the opposite direction. At the end of the alley they saw four hooded figures fighting with several other men. As the combatants launched blasts of fire at each other, the ground was briefly illuminated to reveal a slight, crumpled figure on the ground nearby. Another man getting up off the ground was obviously wounded. He struggled to his feet and ran up the alley a short distance to the nearest street and disappeared. The hooded figures, one of whom was obviously the heavy set man from earlier in the evening, were clearly dominating this fight.

Nikon stopped, requiring a moment to take in the scene. Iroh, his mind unencumbered, assumed the worst and engaged the nearest hooded assailant, the tallest, without hesitation. Iroh could feel his senses sharpen as he tuned out the noise and focused completely on his breathing, his body, and his opponent. The tall man was advancing quickly on a smaller man who, though brandishing a sword, was falling back in fear. The tall man raised his arms, bathed in fire, in preparation to strike.

The blast never came as Iroh, in a single fluid motion, grabbed the tall man's left arm at the wrist, twisted it around to his back and swept his feet out from under him. Surprised, the tall man fell on his back. Iroh brought his foot down to stamp on the tall man's stomach, but his opponent rolled out of the way. Summoning a ball of fire Iroh hit the tall man square in the chest as he got to his feet. Iroh's opponent slammed into the brick wall of the alley with a distinct clang.

_Steel armor_, Iroh thought, _not only a coward, but a rich one_.

As Iroh advanced, he saw out of the corner of his eye one of the defenders receive a sword through his belly from the heavy set man. Nikon then rushed past him, kicked the sword out of the murderer's hand, and tackled him to the ground.

Sidestepping lightly Iroh launched a blow with his fist that erupted in a plume of fire. The blast and his fist were blocked by the tall man who responded with a blast of his own. The Crown Prince spun around and crouched low, allowing the blast to pass over him. Behind him a pile of refuse instantly caught fire and filled the alley with heat and dull, reddish orange light.

The respite lasted but a moment as his opponent launched several follow up blasts in quick succession. Iroh jumped backwards and aimed a gout of fire at a sewer manhole located on the ground between them. His blast popped the cover out of its hole, causing it to somersault through the air towards the tall man. It was not fast enough to hit Iroh's opponent, however, who simply stepped out of its way.

As Iroh and his opponent took momentary stock of each other in the hellish light of the burning trash, the tall man reached into his waistband behind his back and produced a pair of war fans. Iroh focused on them in horror. Though it was difficult to be certain even a few feet away, the fans were metal with a dark enamel coating. The tall man was knocked to the ground as the heavy set man collided with him, propelled backwards by a joint blast of fire from Nikon and Gan. The remaining defenders and Gan had forced the other assailants to the ground where they lay groaning.

Iroh's shock was compounded when the heavy set man and the tall man regained their feet. The heavy set man's hood had fallen. So had Nikon's. They all stared at each other. The heavy set man, even as shadows danced across his cruel face, was instantly recognizable.

"Macro!" choked one of the defenders. All but one of the men who had been with the women then fled, gasping in terror as if a very demon from hell had appeared before them. This was in fact the case. The heavy set man was indeed none other than Yotaku Macro.

Which meant…

The tall man suddenly put his war fans away and grabbed Macro's arm as the sound of tracked vehicles approaching was heard. Macro turned and led the tall man and their two barely recovered companions down the alley.

Still in shock, Iroh ran over to the crumpled body. Beside her was the small man with the sword, which now lay flat and useless beside the woman's body. The man sobbed uncontrollably. Gan knelt down next to her and grimaced. The alley was damp with the rain from earlier in the evening, but he recognized the sticky wetness of blood as it soaked his garments. He felt for a pulse.

"She's dead," he said dully, "Look's like her throat, and… some other things have been cut."

Looking up the small man spoke thickly to the heavens, "I…loved her! I loved her… and he just… he just…killed my poor Xia!"

The man slumped over the girl's body, her heavily painted face and filthy, torn clothing visible in the flickering light. She was obviously the same prostitute from earlier that evening, the man either her john or her pimp.

Gan stood up and asked in a subdued voice, "So, do we feel worse? Or better?"

Iroh thought about this for only a second before opening a door into a nearby building, "No time for that now, we've got to get the hell out of here."

The three men fled into the night.


	9. Goodbye To All That

_Avatar: The Last Airbender_ Created By: Michael Dante DiMartino, Bryan Konietzko  
_Avatar: The Last Airbender_ Owned By: Nickelodeon, a subsidiary of Viacom  
All original content and characters © Acastus

* * *

**  
Chapter IX – Goodbye To All That**

The weather broke less than two weeks later. Gone were the cold, rainy skies and tempestuous seas that made ocean travel so dangerous in winter. True to his word, Xian had instantly moved up the date of the invasion.

The pace of loading had increased dramatically and the activity around the harbor had reached a fevered crescendo before all suddenly became still. Earlier that day the Fire Lord had seen them off in a grand ceremony on the steps of the Palace. Accompanied by his second wife, Azulon had bid them farewell with a stony countenance.

Xian, clad in his ceremonial steel, had mounted the white marble staircase on the east side of the palace to kneel before his Uncle. Tien Shin had climbed with him. The staircase and the streets leading up to them were lined with thousands of people, many of whom were wishing fathers, brothers, mothers and sisters goodbye.

The Fire Lord had spoken a few words to his nephew that were unintelligible to any bystander. He had then handed Xian a scroll, the token of his office and the symbol of his authority from the Fire Lord. The crowd cheered as the young General had stood, his _daimyo_ following suit. Lady Ila had then stepped forward and handed her son a letter which he had taken and inserted into a fold of his long red cloak.

Iroh had watched all of this from far below where he stood at the head of the procession. Even though it had happened only a few hours ago, it still seemed but a dream.

Putting aside thoughts of this uncomfortable farewell, Iroh and Nikon now sat on a pair of stools on the observation deck outside the bridge of the great battleship _Sulaco._ It was twilight and the fleet was to sail on the morning tide. Proud towers of iron and steel, the mighty ships of the Fire Nation lined the docks in deceptively quiet anticipation of the violence and death that lay ahead. Below decks, the crew and soldiers of the Army were finishing their evening meal.

Squinting, Iroh brought the book he was reading closer to his face, trying to read a few more pages before the gathering night made it impossible. A cool breeze threatened to flip the pages, but Iroh restrained them.

"You'll go blind reading in this light," a familiar voice sounded from behind the book.

Nikon stood and saluted sharply, a smile on his face, "That's what I tried to tell him, sir."

Iroh dropped his book to see his cousin, who motioned them to stand at ease.

"Enough of that, my friend, while we're alone at least. We've had enough pomp for today," then to his cousin with a wry grin, "Oh? Iroh with a book? A rare site indeed. What wondrous tome has the power to hold your attention, I wonder?"

"I nearly choked when he showed me," laughed Nikon.

Iroh held up the cover so that his cousin could read the title. "_Lost Civilizations of the Ancient Earth Kingdom,_" read Xian, his eyebrows rising in surprise, "Wondrous indeed!"

"Yes. I tried to find something on recent Earth Kingdom history, but there was very little. We don't know much about our opponents, do we?"

"Not as much as we'd like, no. But then, have you learned anything of value from this?" he inquired with mock severity.

Iroh turned towards his cousin and replied, "I'm not sure how valuable, but certainly some things of interest. Whether or not I believe any of it is an entirely different matter. I know the monorails are real – you've seen them. But ships that fly through the air? Buildings so tall they touch the sky?"

"It seems fantastic, doesn't it?" Xian replied as he walked over to the railing. Two figures, a man and a woman, had just boarded the ship on the weather deck below. They were saluted by the watch guards and escorted over to the main hatch. Xian turned back to his friends as the newcomers entered the superstructure below and continued, "But, I have seen some strange things in the Earth Kingdom during my travels, and I have heard many tales."

"I don't believe any of it," Nikon stated flatly. "If they were so far ahead back then, why aren't they invading us instead of the other way around?"

Iroh considered this briefly. The question troubled him. Though fantastic, he knew there was little doubt among Fire Nation scholars that the glorious achievements of these ancient Earth Kingdom states were matters of historical fact rather than fantasy. But now, they were long since gone, the stuff of legend even by the time of Chin the Conqueror. If their technology and advanced civilizations could not protect them from ultimate dissolution, what would the future bring for the Fire Nation?

"I'm not sure," replied the Crown Prince, his brow furrowing in worry. "Perhaps, as this author suggests, it was plague, or natural disasters, civil wars, or some combination. These civilizations existed long ago, perhaps even before the first Avatar. The world must have been very different back then," remarked Iroh thoughtfully.

Shaking his head Nikon replied, "I still don't buy it. Look, nothing of value has been invented in the Earth Kingdom for heaven knows how long. Those people live the way their ancestors have for hundreds or even thousands of years. If what these books say is true, then in a few centuries the Fire Nation might end up back in the Dark Ages like the Earth Kingdom. I just don't believe it."

"You mean you don't _want_ to believe it," corrected Iroh gently. "I don't want to either. However, that doesn't mean it's impossible. The real question is why did those civilizations collapse? And, more importantly, how can we prevent the same from happening to us?"

Iroh stood, dropped the book on his stool and stretched as Xian replied, "Well, how did you two suddenly become philosophers? Those are good questions, cousin, but the answers will have to wait."

Iroh and Nikon focused on their commanding officer as they heard the sounds of people entering the bridge behind them. A smile spread across Xian's face as he glanced behind him to confirm what his ears had detected.

Turning back to his friends he said, "Ah! And now I have surprise for you both."

"Oh?" questioned Iroh.

"Yes. Two, actually."

Several people mounted the ladder from below and entered the wheel room. Two, obviously guards, stayed behind while the other two exited onto the observation deck.

The taller of the two newcomers was Gan, dressed in the dark grey uniform of the Ministry of War. In his left hand he carried a tablet and stylus which he held out before him as if they were the source of some dread disease. As he caught sight of his friends, he shook his head in resignation. Xian's smile spread into a satisfied grin.

Iroh was delighted to see his friend so unexpectedly, but he couldn't help but focus on Gan's companion. Several inches shorter, she was probably a few years his and Nikon's senior. She had long black hair that she wore in a long ponytail and a pleasant figure which was utterly ruined by the expression of extreme displeasure that marred what otherwise would have been an attractive face.

Gan and the woman stopped in front of Iroh and Xian. Nikon instantly appeared on Xian's other side, placing himself in front of the unhappy woman. She ignored Nikon, keeping her sharp golden eyes fixed on Xian, as if her gaze might itself cause his instantaneous death.

"Gan! How wonderful to see you," Xian remarked with a mischievous grin.

"Your Highnesses," returned Gan with a stiff bow.

"But, Gan, why are you here?" asked Iroh incredulously.

Nikon tore his eyes away from the sour woman long enough to remark, "Yeh, it's not that we're unhappy to see you, but shouldn't you be doing some accounting or something back at the Ministry?"

"You're damn right I should," Gan shot back, looking with wide eyes at Xian. "But, I received _this_ three hours ago."

Gan tore a black tube out of his uniform and handed it to Nikon. The seal was unmistakable. Fire Lord Azulon's missives were instantly recognizable in their ominous black cases.

Nikon began to open the tube, but Gan cut him off, "Oh, don't bother. It's really from Xian. I'm to be the Qu'ai Tau for the Army of the Great Divide and there isn't a thing I can do about it," turning to Xian to complete the thought, "is there?"

Xian placed his hand gently on Gan's shoulder and replied, "Not a thing, my friend."

"Qu'ai Tau? The finance officer? Isn't that a demotion, Gan?" remarked Nikon with a brazen laugh.

"Nonsense, Nikon, now don't bait him!" admonished Xian with a severe look at the young brigade leader.

Before Gan could himself reply to Nikon's remark, Iroh stepped forward and hugged his friend, who stiffened momentarily before hugging him back, "I'm so glad you're coming."

"I'm not, but, if I have to go get myself killed, at least I'll have decent company," then, with a nasty look at Nikon he added, "mostly decent, anyway."

"Speak for yourself, Gan," spoke the woman in an acid tone as she crossed her arms across her chest.

Gan disengaged from the Crown Prince and snorted, "Speak for you? Not if you paid me."

Iroh's eyes went wide. No one loved money as much as Gan. Normally such a comment would have excited laughter, but it was clear that this time he meant every word. The Crown Prince's eyes flicked back to the nameless woman before him.

After Nikon cleared his throat in an obvious signal, Xian supplied, "Oh, of course, Prince Iroh, son of Fire Lord Azulon and heir to the throne of the Fire Nation, this is Chieng Shiung, daughter of Liu Shiung."

"Your Highness," she intoned coldly.

_So this is Chieng? No wonder she has a reputation, _thought Iroh as she bowed ever so slightly before him.

"And this is Nikon Orlando, Commander of the 5th Armored Brigade," Xian motioned to Nikon, who bowed. "Nikon, this is Chieng Shiung, Commander, Strategic Rocket Forces."

"_Formerly_ Commander of Strategic Rocket Forces," Chieng corrected, "Instead of developing the weaponry to end this war permanently I am being wasted on this, this _babysitting_ expedition." She spat out the words as if she were expelling a poisonous liquid. "This is an outrage, General Xian."

"Not true," corrected Xian with a raised finger, "we will be using new technology in combat for the first time, technology developed by _you_. Adjustments will have to made – and fast. The success of this campaign –"

"I've heard it all before your Highness," she retorted sharply, cutting Xian off, "and frankly it's a crock of shit," she jabbed a finger at her commanding officer for emphasis, "You're robbing me of three whole sections of my technicians for this joyride. You don't need me."

Nikon held his chin in his hand and with an appraising look at her remarked, "I can think of a lot of reasons why we need you."

Iroh winced at the comment and both Xian and Gan looked uncomfortable.

Chieng turned, acknowledging Nikon for the first time. Looking back at Xian, incredulous, she said, "You've got to be kidding me," then back to Nikon. "Get this through your head right now. I have absolutely no interest in you. I'm not a hooker, so I don't see why you, given your reputation should have any interest in me either. Oh yes, I've heard of you. Everyone's heard of you. If you've got an ounce of intelligence you'll just ride your goddamn tank and let them win your battles for you. Moron."

Iroh's mouth hung open at this crushing retort. He felt as if he were an inch tall, and Chieng's withering insult had not even been directed at him.

The Crown Prince's shock was compounded when Nikon merely laughed and replied, addressing Xian, "Well, your Highness, what a shame her manners don't match her looks."

"Clever," she commented with derision, then, turning to Iroh, "this guy isn't going to be with us the whole campaign is he, Your Highness? _Please_ tell me he's been selected to lead the direct frontal assault on Ba-Sing-Se or something."

"No, Chieng, I'm afraid you and he will have to work closely together since he is one of our best tank commanders," replied Iroh.

"That is possibly _the_ saddest thing I've ever heard. Anyway, I'd have thought you would want to have the glory role. Why aren't _you_ riding one of my tanks, Prince Iroh?"

The question was sudden and represented a shift in Chieng's demeanor. Her tone made clear she was still sharp enough make you bleed if she decided to cut you, but the rancor was replaced by intense curiosity.

"General Xian placed me in charge of the infantry. Like you Chieng, I do as my orders instruct. I am pleased to hear you so confident in your creations, however. Much rides on their success."

"More than this fool's life, to be sure," she said without even glancing at her target. "And why, indeed, should I not be confident? With my tanks we will be able to destroy the enemy with ease, at least on open ground. No intelligence or training required."

"Oh, and what about the speed?" questioned Nikon, clearly savoring the opportunity to act as prosecutor. "We got over the fuel filter disaster and the sun gear thing, but even with the larger engines these machines are half the speed of our Mongoose Dragon cavalry."

At this she turned to Nikon and replied smoothly, "I've solved that. During The Crossing we will strip off the belly armor. That will reduce the weight of each by almost forty stone. The field tests proved that even at the slower speed all but the strongest earthbenders will not be able to target our tanks. It's a done deal."

"Ha! You sound like our beloved _daimyo_."

"He, at least, has a brain. Where is he, by the way?"

"He is in command of the _Hiryu_," replied Iroh, pointing at an identical ship several vessels over. "You're free to join him for the voyage, if you like," the Crown Prince supplied hopefully.

"No," she replied, "Since I have been forced into this ridiculous position, I insist on doing the job properly. General Xian and I have to reorganize the operation planning. I have more than a dozen tank trains that we will use for strategic re-supply of our armored columns. But this means we have to change our existing plans."

Iroh's shoulders slumped at this disappointing response.

After a moment of uncomfortable silence Gan picked up the book Iroh had deposited on the stool and examined it.

"So, you've actually been reading this. I never thought you'd open it. Did you get to the bit about the air ships and the underground dams yet?"

"Yes, we were just talking about it when you arrived. Thanks for lending it to me," replied Iroh.

Chieng leaned over to read the title, "Why are you wasting the Crown Prince's time with that trash, Gan? He'd be much better off reading Sun Tzu or _The Strategikon of Morykos_ or something."

"I've read those many times," Iroh replied cautiously, trying to hide his reaction to Chieng's assumption that he'd never even been introduced to such basic texts, "and there is little further for me to gain there without direct experience. I asked Gan for work on recent Earth Kingdom history, really hoping to learn something about General Nifong. Unfortunately, there was no direct information about him. I am afraid our enemy remains mostly a mystery."

Chieng arched an eyebrow and commented, "Well, Your Highness, at least you do your homework. Good."

Chieng then turned and without even asking for leave exited the observation deck.

As soon as she was out of earshot Nikon began to chuckle hysterically, "Man, what a bitch!"

Iroh was forced to agree, "Yes, she is most unpleasant. Does she always behave this way, cousin?"

"I've never known her to be otherwise. She got it all from her father. He was exactly the same. We met him long ago, Iroh, but you're probably too young to remember. We'll have to deal with her as is, gentlemen. We will need her before this is over and we don't have time to teach her how to behave like a human being." Then, with a smile at Nikon, "But then, I could say the same about Nikon here."

"Oh, I never want to behave like a human being," Nikon replied with a grin.

"I don't think you're in any danger of that, my friend," inserted Iroh before Nikon could continue, "Besides, all those times she blew us off, and we were so mad. Now, we know what a blessing it was!"

"Yes, but now we have to put with her from now until… forever," replied Gan with a groan, "I can't believe I gave up spending my time relaxing in my stone garden or reading by the pond for this."

"Yeh, well say goodbye to all that, my friend," Nikon supplied in good humor, "Time to help us welcome the armies of the Earth Kingdom to the lower regions!"

Xian held up a hand and said, "All right, gentlemen. That's enough self congratulation for tonight. We should all be turning in. We sail on the morning tide."

He was right. The moon had now risen and the sounds of the evening meal from below had long since died off. Iroh, Gan and Nikon saluted their superior and went in search of their cabins. Xian, alone, stayed on deck and watched the stars in silence.


	10. The General

_Avatar: The Last Airbender Created By: Michael Dante DiMartino, Bryan Konietzko  
Avatar: The Last Airbender Owned By: Nickelodeon, a subsidiary of Viacom_  
Based partly Msgr. James H. O'Neill's Prayer for General George C. Patton  
All original content and characters © Acastus

* * *

**  
Chapter X – The General**

"The Fire Nation fleet set sail that next morning," Gao concluded in his charming baritone, "I would tell you more of that journey, esteemed guests, but very little of interest happened. After several weeks at sea, Xian's army disembarked as planned in the Gulf of Gela."

Iroh was snapped rudely out of his shared memory of that night by a spray of liquid from his left. The retired general lurched to avoid the spray, startling his nephew who stood up to prevent his uncle's ponderous frame from slamming into him.

The source of the explosion was obvious. Trimazu had spit an entire mouthful of wine onto the table and floor in front of him.

"What? _WHAT_?" the merchant thundered in fury at the old storyteller.

Gao turned in dismay, his eyes betraying more than a little fear, "I beg pardon, Master. How have I offended?"

"What do you mean, "how have I offended"? Are you out of your _mind_? You're going to tell me with a set up like that nothing happened? _Nothing_?"

Gao was flabbergasted, as were most of the guests. Some of the party goers, however, tittered at the merchant's outburst, though whether it was because they understood his complaint or were merely responding to his usual over the top delivery was unclear.

"Set up?" repeated the storyteller as if he'd never before heard the words strung together in such a way.

"Yes, a set up! That Chieng sounds hot. You _just know_ she's one of those sassy, sexy, devilishly smart types who delights in playing hard-to-get! Just like those Genji stories. And now you're going to tell me that she doesn't end up with one of these guys?" His voice increased in intensity as he spoke. Then, pinching his nose he continued, "Please, don't offend my nostrils with such a heaping pile of dung!"

Releasing his nostrils Trimazu continued hopefully, "Come on, she ends up with Iroh, doesn't she? Confess!"

His ears and cheeks burning, Iroh raised his wine glass and drank heavily. Over the rim of his goblet, Iroh eyed his nephew, who returned the look with some surprise. Air accompanied the wine down the retired general's wind pipe and he erupted in a coughing fit, breaking eye contact with the young Prince.

"Uh, no, Master, she doesn't end up with Iroh," Gao replied.

"Okay, she ends up with that rake Nikon then, right?"

"No."

"The noble Xian?" the fat merchant wheedled eagerly.

"No."

"So she ends up with Tien Shin, then?" Trimazu concluded in horror, "How vile!"

"Uh, forgive me, Master, but, no, she doesn't "end up" with anyone," replied Gao, "at least not in this story."

"Yeh, okay, fine," the merchant replied in frustration, "maybe she doesn't get married or whatever, but we're going to get some hot sex, right?"

"No."

"Are you _sure_?" the merchant questioned in a scandalized voice.

"Yes."

"_What_?" the Merchant bellowed, "You mean _no sex at all_? What kind of a _crappy_ story is this? What the hell am I paying you for?"

At this Trimazu picked up a guava fruit from one of the many plates in front of him and lobbed it at the old storyteller, who dodged the fruit with some difficulty.

"_Crappy_?" Iroh muttered, his eyes wide in dismay at the statement.

"You'll have to forgive him, Master Storyteller," Chen Ho inserted in a slightly slurred voice, "your story was the closest thing Trimazu was ever going to get to actually experiencing sex with a woman."

Few heard this brazen remark, but Trimazu turned to his neighbor, laughed and replied in a normal voice, "At least since your wife died, my dear Chen, but this is neither the time nor the place for me to relate my enthusiastic efforts to alleviate that poor woman's acute suffering!" Trimazu turned back to the Storyteller who stood in fear before him and barked so that the entire hall could hear him, "Gao! What is this crap? I demand an explanation!"

"I apologize for offending, Master," Gao begged, bowing low, "Had I known the requirement was for romance, I assure you I have many tales of the wild at heart whose passions overcome all reason. Do you wish me to stop, Master, and begin another tale more to your liking?"

Trimazu's face contorted with a sour look and with a gesture of frustration replied, "Oh, I don't know. I'll let our honored guests decide." Turning to Iroh he inquired, "What do you say, Xian? Do you want to hear more? Or should we ask for a Genji story?"

A veil of silence descended suddenly upon the audience and all eyes turned to Iroh. He and his nephew had been an object of curiosity among the guests when they had first entered the room, but the fascination had quickly died away. Parading around a couple of day laborers in the middle of a high feast for the nobility was probably neither the first nor the most outrageous stunt the merchant of Shanxi had perpetrated in his time. Iroh was keenly aware of the attention focused upon him. Although most of the faces were smiling, the sensation was most unpleasant and not out of any sense of modesty or embarrassment.

Trying to put the odd sense of mingled fear and shame out of his mind, Iroh's eyes panned around the room. Several audience members cried out for the story to continue. A few others yawned.

Then, to his surprise Iroh found himself replying, "Uh… no, Lord. I'd like to hear more," turning to the storyteller he continued, "Our noble storyteller seems… very well informed. I wonder if he might know something of General Nifong? Is he not the ill fated hero of our story?"

The audience members who had cried out for the story to continue clapped loudly at this response. Trimazu's sour look disappeared instantly. The merchant slapped himself on the forehead and cried, "Of course! An excellent idea! It's not as good as some steamy sex, but it will do! Gao, tell us what you know of old Deng the Hammer, for how can we have Xian without Deng Nifong? The very idea is monstrous."

At this Governor Tao leaned over, smiled and raised his fist in hearty agreement with Iroh, saying, "Excellent choice, Xian! General Nifong is a great Earth Kingdom hero worthy of celebration. I was too young to serve with him, but my brothers did. O that we had such leadership now!"

The old storyteller breathed a sigh of relief and replied to Iroh, "An excellent suggestion, my humble friend, and you make it at exactly the right moment," then in a conversational tone, "Tell me, you seem of Governor Tao's age, is General Nifong your hero too?"

Zuko folded his arms over his chest and surveyed his uncle, restraining the urge to snort derisively. Iroh looked down for a moment before replying, "He always had my respect."

The retired general looked briefly to his left to find the Merchant of Shanxi regarding him steadily, a slight smile on his face.

"Shall he continue, Lord?" Iroh inquired.

Trimazu regarded him a moment longer, made brief eye contact with the young Prince to his right, before replying with a wider smile, "But of course, my lowly friend!" Then in a much louder voice and addressing the wider audience he continued, "I'm paying him a fortune, haven't I said that yet?" Snapping his fingers he bellowed, "Gao, get on with it now!"

The old storyteller bowed, turned to the audience and resumed his tale. With a solemn expression he began, "Lake Myojin was Deng Zev Nifong's greatest victory – and his last…"

* * *

The man in green armor stood at the edge of the scrub desert, his back towards the richness of the Nasu plain. Before him on the horizon lay the vast expanse of the Dune Sea. The sun had long since set and the sky was illuminated by myriads of stars. A cold wind blew off the desert floor, ruffling the man's uniform. Crickets chirped loudly in the underbrush as the bushes sighed in the wind above them. 

Approaching footsteps alerted the man to the presence of a newcomer. He knew the identity of the intruder by the rhythm of his footsteps.

"Yes, Captain?" he inquired without turning.

"Are you all right, General? You've been out here for awhile and we were beginning to get worried."

General Nifong, for of course that is who he was, continuing to contemplate the desert in the distance, replied, "Your pardon, Captain. I'm fine. I've just forgotten how cold it gets in the desert at night."

The younger soldier shuddered slightly and tugged his cloak more closely about him and replied, "Very cold, sir."

The wind continued to whip by for a few moments before the General continued, "I saw several riders. Have our…guests arrived?"

"Yes, sir. A new Fire Nation army has landed in the Gulf of Gela under the command of Prince Xian."

The aide hesitated, then closed his mouth.

"And?" prompted the General at the pause.

"Well, the reports are confused, sir. Three messengers arrived at the same time. The earliest report is already four days old. The latest is from this morning. Apparently the Fire Nation army has already disembarked, joined up with the Army of the Great Divide from Mequon and forded the Arno."

Deng exhaled and shook his head.

"I'm sorry, sir, but we had been expecting them to arrive much further south, so…"

"Yes, I know. Who's first and how soon, then?"

"This is where it gets confusing, sir. General Jin's infantry held them at the Arno for a day or so, but the Fire Nation troops broke through near Sedan. They've moved with incredible speed. Most of Jin's men were surrounded and overwhelmed within hours." The Captain produced several pieces of paper and began to scan through them, his brow creased in concentration, "After the breakthrough, the enemy divided into several columns." He handed the papers over to his commanding officer and continued, "Looks like they are quickly encircling those parts of General Jin's army that are still fighting."

Nifong flipped through the pages and asked, "Where are their vanguards headed?"

"We don't know," the younger soldier admitted glumly, "All we know is that one column was on the road to Edo and will probably get there sometime tonight. The whole north end of the Nasu plain is afire, General."

"How are they moving so fast?"

The aide hesitated a moment before replying, "They have new machines, sir."

"Describe them to me."

The young Captain described the Fire Nation's latest invention in some detail. The machines spread panic and terror amongst Jin's men. Retreat had turned into a route. Deng said nothing while the younger man spoke.

"I see," Nifong replied, "And how has the general staff reacted to this news?"

"They're concerned, General. I left right after the news arrived, but a huge fight had already broken out between those who want to stick around and defend the Nasu and the rest who want to abandon it and attack Mequon. They're saying that this is the opportunity we've been waiting for to kick the Fire Nation out of the Earth Kingdom and that we shouldn't waste it. Either way, it won't be long before everyone starts asking for orders."

"Of course you're correct." Then turning to face his companion for the first time in the interview he inquired, "So, is she ready then?"

Without blinking an eye or betraying any hint that the question was a non-sequitur, the aide replied, "Yes, sir. She's waiting for you now."

The Earth Kingdom general allowed himself a slight smile and replied, "Thank you, Captain. Tell Madame Wu I will join her in a few minutes. Dismissed."

The young soldier exchanged salutes with his superior and left the way he had come.

When certain that he was alone, Nifong drew a mighty breath and squatted low. Spreading his arms wide with him palms upward he raised a perfectly circular pillar of stone before him. With a twist of his hands the top of the pillar became crenellated and a pattern raised itself on its exposed face. Although the pillar was only a few feet high, he raised a stone to serve as a single step almost as an afterthought. Standing up straight, he then walked up onto the top of the pillar. The pattern on the top of the pillar was the solid, familiar emblem of the Earth Kingdom. He knelt when he reached the center, his arm resting on knee as he began his prayer.

_Spirit of the Earth, hear now this prayer from thy most humble servant. Thy divine guidance has ever been the author of my victories and the safeguard of thy people. Yet now the Fire Nation has once again chosen to make war upon us. My heart should overflow with confidence, but it does not. My dreams are dark, and the shadows by day seem so much longer than they used. _

_I raise my voice now to thee in prayer as I feel the rapid approach of some great turn of events, and beg thee once more for thy divine favor in the struggle to come. _

_Grant us, O Spirit of the Earth, understanding of our enemy, for courage, strength, determination and skill at arms we hath ourselves in abundance. Graciously hearken to us as soldiers who call upon thee that, armed with thy power, we may advance from victory to victory, and crush the oppression and wickedness of our enemies, and restore the sacred balance among men and nations._

Deng opened his eyes and stood once more. With a single glance toward the Dune Sea before him, he turned and stepped off the altar of living stone. As he walked back to camp, the pillar dropped back into the earth from which it had sprung.


	11. The Reading

_Avatar: The Last Airbender_ Created By: Michael Dante DiMartino, Bryan Konietzko  
_Avatar: The Last Airbender_ Owned By: Nickelodeon, a subsidiary of Viacom  
All original content and characters © Acastus

* * *

**  
Chapter XI – The Reading**

The waxing moon had long since set when Deng arrived at his camp. The sentries saluted as he passed. They, like his aide, had been with him for what seemed a lifetime and they were well aware of their commander's pernoctations. The camp was asleep.

The Earth Kingdom general saw the tent he was looking for. It was the only one made of fabric and not of stone.

He stopped outside of the tent's closed flap. Through its walls a warm light pulsed rhythmically, as if it were the heart of some giant organism. He could feel his own chest tightening as he hesitated. He looked up at the stars in a last, silent appeal for help before ducking into the tent.

Inside a young woman sat on a simple mat before a fire pit. The fire danced and waved wildly as the dry desert wood burned rapidly. A tripod held an iron vessel over the flames. Steam rose in a thick column off the water boiling within.

The woman had long, dark hair, a generous mouth and dark eyes. She looked at the much older man before her with an expression of relief and a concern too pained not to reveal something deeper. She reached up to him, but he waved her off as he dropped down on the mat opposite her.

"You have called, and I have come," she said softly as she dropped her hand into her lap.

The tightening in his chest subsided as he looked at her. He smiled and said equally softly, "As you always have, you have come to help save our people."

"And always will," she replied, looking back up at the Earth Kingdom general with intensity in her voice and despair in her eyes,"– for you."

Their eyes locked for a moment longer before Deng broke contact. Looking down he saw the colorful, wide backs of the cards at her feet.

"We should start," he began apologetically. "Is he asleep?"

She closed her eyes in concentration, and after a brief pause replied, "He is," her voice suddenly calm and certain. She opened her eyes once again, but as she looked at him, he could tell she no longer saw him.

"Have you set your heart on this course, my lord? You know that my gift is revelation, but I cannot control what the cards and the Spirits who speak through them will reveal. Such knowledge can be dangerous, and once revealed it cannot again be concealed." She spoke as if reading from a religious text, though the feeling behind her warning permeated her speech.

Nifong reached behind his back and untied the clasps of his breastplate, which he removed and placed carefully beside him. Turning back to the young woman he replied, "I understand, but you know this must be done."

"Our enemy approaches," he continued, "You have heard the drum beats and seen the fires from afar. Already my commanders wrangle over what to do. Shall we fight them here and now? Shall we bide our time until the winter comes to our aid? Or, shall we dare great deeds and seek to win the ultimate prize? If we were to conquer Mequon, the war might soon be over."

Then, he sighed, and in a softer voice continued, "Ah, if only I could do this, this one thing," he reached out a hand and curled a lock of the young woman's hair back behind her ear from where it had fallen, "to end this war forever. We could all start new lives. The world could wake up from this nightmare and live again. It is all I have ever prayed for, all I have ever wanted," he looked away from her and continued, "For twenty years I've fought, but the war seems to have a life of its own. How strange it seems now that I fight not the Fire Nation, but the war itself."

Nifong shook his head as if to clear such thoughts from him mind and he looked once more at his companion with a slight smile, "See how I drift now in my own thoughts? I think of philosophy, the Spirits and the virtues of a simpler life amidst the maelstrom." Nifong's expression hardened as he continued, "The war has a new face, the face of Prince Xian of the Fire Nation. If I am to destroy him, I must understand him. The Dai Li identified the leader of this new army months ago as the Fire Lord's nephew, the one who grew to fame under General Shu, but that is all. The Dai Li give names and dates, but nothing useful, nothing about the man. They know nothing," he concluded, not without bitterness in his voice.

"That is enough. When was he born?" He told her and she replied, "Then let us begin."

Nifong removed the leather vest and peasant shirt he wore under his armor. Bare chested, he rose to his feet and dragged his mat directly in front of the fire. He dropped the mat and sat down on his knees. Grabbing the two closest legs of the tripod with his hands he leaned over into the steam rising from the iron. Sweat began to pour off him as the heat from the fire and the steam struck his body.

She spoke from somewhere behind him, "You shall be a vessel for your enemy as this iron is a vessel for this water."

The young woman suddenly appeared opposite him. "Close your eyes, my lord, and breath deeply," she ordered calmly. The general complied. He was dimly aware of the woman opening small containers and heard the brief, but unmistakable sounds of glass bottles knocked against each other.

The light of the fire prevented his eyelids from providing complete darkness. The steam, the heat, the sweat and the rosy light that filtered through his eyelids yielded an unpleasant experience. This was compounded by the periodic popping of the dry wood as it burned, which caused small pieces of hot ash to land on his arms and knees. The pit in his stomach had no relation to these uncomfortable sensations, but rather to his fear of what was to come. Though they had done this many times together, it was nevertheless an experience both he and the fortuneteller dreaded.

After some time Deng heard the young woman start dropping things into the boiling water. The steam became acrid and he began to cough violently. The tripod shook as his grip tightened and he fought against his natural instinct to withdraw.

"Breath!" she commanded in an urgent tone.

Deng breathed, but felt no air enter his lungs. His muscles moved, his chest cavity expanded, but he felt nothing fill it. He opened his eyes involuntarily, but his vision was distorted by salty tears.

"Close your eyes!"

Still choking, he closed his eyes once more, this time so tightly that it caused him pain as he tried to drive away salty, acidic tears that burned horribly. He tried to exhale the breath he had never drawn. His chest and lungs shrank in volume, but again he felt no wind pass over his lips.

Then, when the excruciating sensation was finally causing him to panic, something else was added to the vessel and the steam changed once again. The smell turned almost instantaneously from acrid to saccharine. The sensation of breathing returned to him. As he gasped for air he could feel the burning sensation in his lungs smothered as if by a blanket of warm snow. Breathing deeply of the sweet steam, the heat of both the flames and the vapor began to lose their grip on his consciousness. The fire popped, depositing a fragment of burning wood on his arm, but he did not notice.

With great relief he felt himself recede within his own mind and body. He dimly perceived his own breath, but the sensory perception of his extremities was gone. Disconnected from his surroundings, he drifted on a calm internal sea, his body a great hollow shell around him. As if from far away he heard the young woman begin to speak or chant. The words were indistinguishable, but they rose in tempo and power.

As the fortuneteller continued, the serenity of his mind was suddenly broken. In one sickening motion, Deng felt his whole self rush forward at amazing speed. The sensation of acceleration was horrifying as he had no body with which to feel it. He opened his mind's eye and was horrified to see nothing at all. A great blackness rushed at him, the void which terrifies all who fear death.

Then, as suddenly as the acceleration had begun, it was gone. This sensation was replaced by the certainty that he was not alone. A visitor now in his own consciousness, he felt small amidst the caverns of his mind. All about him he could feel the enormity of another being.

His mind's eye suddenly flashed white and then filled with a vision, occupying the void that had so terrified him. An image of an old man with a severe countenance and a finger pointed down at him from a dais was replaced with a startlingly clear visage of the sun setting over a great city. Swept along by the power of these visions, or perhaps memories, Deng had no choice but to allow the sensations of each to wash over him. He felt briefly the soft, warm flesh of a naked woman as the memory of the other's first embrace was replaced by the image of a Fire Nation family, dressed in white. Near them stood a funeral pyre. He saw rather than felt the hand of the other reach out to the figure on the pyre, but he could not touch it.

The vision ended as the young woman began speaking again, and this time Deng could hear the words.

"Can you hear me, Prince?" she asked.

"Yes," his mouth answered, though Deng had not moved his lips, "Where am I?"

"You are safe. Open your eyes."

His eyes opened. Deng saw through them, but could not move them himself.

"Come over here and sit down in front of me."

Without feeling the movement, Deng was aware of his body rising and walking over to where the cards lay. A moment later the young woman faced him once again.

"Show me your hands."

His hands raised themselves of their own accord. Into them she placed the large deck of cards.

"Shuffle these cards and think of what concerns you most. Return them to me when you are done."

His body held the cards, hesitating. "Why do I do this? I am so tired, I must sleep."

"But you _are_ asleep, Prince," she answered in a soothing voice, "this is just a dream. When you finish what I have asked, you will sleep well the rest of the night and wake refreshed."

Slowly his hands began to shuffle the cards. Though Deng could not feel his hands, he felt the thick texture of the cards. In this strange netherworld they seemed to give off a heat of their own. When he was finished he held them out to the fortuneteller, who took them in silence. She looked at the cards for a moment, and placed them before her. Then she stood up and walked behind his kneeling body.

For a few moments Deng simply experienced the odd weight of the double consciousness inhabiting his body. Looking out upon the world as if from the bottom of a well, he was totally unprepared for the sudden, acute pain of two sharp blows that landed simultaneously on either side of his head. The pain was accompanied by an almost audible popping sound as the fortuneteller's cupped palms forced air into Deng's ear canals. In an instant, the other was gone and, like a air bubble rising to surface from the bottom of the ocean, Deng expanded back into his own body. Shuddering uncontrollably he fell over sideways, muscle spasms wracking him as his mind struggled to reassert control.

The young woman walked around Deng's body as he flopped around on the floor like a dying fish.

Carefully she removed the still steaming vessel from the tripod and, opening a flap at the back of the tent, threw out its contents. Turning back to her lordly guest she saw that the spasms were subsiding.

With a final tremble the tremors departed. Deng breathed heavily as relief and a profound weariness swept his body. He was no longer young, and though the life of a soldier had kept him fit, his body made clear each time he was forced to do this that the next might be his last.

He opened his eyes slightly as he felt a damp cloth wipe the sweat off his forehead and saw the young woman staring down at him, her face drawn in concern. He felt her hand slip into his and grip it tightly.

"Don't," she said as he tried to get up. "Just lie there."

He squeezed her hand and replied, "All right."

She leaned over, lifted his head and placed a pillow underneath.

"Tell me, now. What did you see?"

He related to her the visions of the old man, the sun over a great city, the woman and the family in white.

She reflected for a moment before squeezing his hand once and sitting down beside him on her mat. Deng rolled over onto to his side to see the area between them, the wet cloth falling down on the floor. A few feet away lay the deck of cards his hands had shuffled.

"Now I shall cast for him The Tree of Life."

She picked up the deck, drew the first card and flipped it over. The Knight of Cups. Carefully she lay it down before her. She the drew the second card and turned it over. The Two of Swords, and placed it directly above the first card. The third soon appeared, The Five of Cups, which she placed to the right of the second card. Here she stopped and pondered a moment before speaking.

Pointing to the Knight of Cups she explained, "The first card drawn is the Significator card. It represents the person for whom the spread has been made." She looked at the three cards for a moment before beginning her interpretation in a clear, confident voice, "This Prince Xian is a good man in the eyes of all around him, my lord, a decent man in a corrupt age. He is generous, loyal, open and trusting to those he loves. He loves many, and despises few."

Nifong looked down, unhappy at this news, "How can such a man exist among the high and mighty of the Fire Nation? And why has such a man been sent against me now?"

She looked over to him and replied, "I have no answers for those questions. You know well how this must be, my lord," the young woman chided gently. "This reading will tell nothing of the future, only of possibilities. Through these cards the Spirits will speak of his state of mind and consciousness, his hopes, fears and that which defines him. It will not tell _you_ what to do. You can only take what is shown and decide what do on your own."

"I know," replied Nifong with a sigh.

"But that is not all the Spirits tell us with this card. This man sees the true worth of men and takes their measure with ease, but he is also naturally cautious and seldom quick to act or judge. Now, let us hear what the rest have to tell…"

In rapid succession now she flipped over eight more cards and placed them in a pattern before her. The cards all had painted faces on them, the figures wearing elaborate clothing and captured in different poses. Some held scepters and wore crowns, others juggled cups, or wielded swords. A few were dominated by their inscriptions, "The Tower" and "Death".

Nifong exhaled the breath he had been unconsciously holding and pointed at the Two of Swords above the Significator card, "So, what does he want? This position is what he seeks to achieve, right?"

The young fortuneteller looked up at the general and smiled slightly, "You remember much, my lord."

"Doesn't this one represent peace?"

"Yes, my lord, peace, but not necessarily between men or nations. Prince Xian seeks peace of mind. He is torn… tortured by disappointment, so much that he is not as mindful of the present as he should be," she said, indicating the third card, the Five of Cups, "but he is not the one disappointed, another is."

"How can you tell it is not he who is disappointed?"

"The card is inverted, and…" she said, pointing to the crowned figure on the card to the left of the Two of Swords, "The Emperor has appeared. Someone this man holds in high regard has turned against him or…perhaps better to say the connection between them is broken and Xian seeks to mend it."

Suddenly Deng remembered the old man on the dais, "Azulon?"

"Perhaps. The Fire Lord has placed great expectations on his nephew, of that there can be no doubt. Perhaps his father, who fell long ago on the banks of the Song."

Nifong sighed. This was not what he'd expected, but it seldom was.

"What troubles you, my lord?"

"I expected a young hot head, another bloodthirsty, vainglorious monster, burning with hatred and seeking revenge against the man who he'd probably blame for his father's death. Instead, you tell me I face a decent man."

"You expected…?" the young woman questioned.

Nifong, careful not to disturb the cards, swung out his feet and sat up cross legged. Placing his hands together and resting them on his thighs he continued, "I… hoped for that. Yes, I hoped. It's easier that way, to believe you are ridding the world of evil. How much harder it is, when the face of your enemy is kind." Nifong looked down into his lap and continued softly, "We defend our land, our people, our freedom, but I can't help but to think, after burying bodies for twenty years, there is not one shred of justice in this war."

The fortuneteller raised a hand to her quivering lip, for the general's confessions disturbed her, "Have you lost faith, then, my lord?"

Nifong looked up, a smile sliding down over his face like a veil, "When in doubt, I'm too well trained in my duty to do anything but go on. Fear not. Now," he said, drawing her attention back to the cards, "what else do you see?"

Still shaken, the fortuneteller returned once more to her cards, "The whole spread speaks of confusion and fear, fear of loss, fear of choice, fear of death. He wants to please, but doesn't see how. His ability to see the truth which has served him so well in life, represented here by The Tower," she said pointing at the card bearing that name below and to the right of the Significator, "is overshadowed… clouded by his fears."

"His friends and subordinates are fiercely loyal, but he is opposed by the Prince of Disks – here," she said, indicating the card of the same name. The figure on this card had one body, but had a face on both sides of its head. It had four hands, each of which held an object, a sword, a bow, a scale and a scroll.

"This person is a man of tremendous ambition and determination, but his path is unclear as well. The Spirits do not reveal in this spread what his fate will be."

Nifong looked down once again and frowned slightly. The fire had begun to burn low. "And the Death card? What is it's meaning here? I know it seldom means physical death."

"Of course he may die, my lord, but you are right to say that isn't what the card means here. The Death card in many oracle decks is called "Rebirth" or "Transformation", and often means some kind of major change. In this spread, it means, in conjunction with the inverted Six of Wands, that during this great turn of events he will win by losing, and all that was before these events will change irrevocably."

"What does that mean? Will I defeat him on the battlefield, then?"

"I don't know, my lord," she replied, "Fortunetelling is an imprecise art, at best."

"It doesn't matter," the Earth Kingdom general replied sternly, getting once more to his feet. "The Spirits have revealed enough. I now know how to beat the man. Now I must learn how to beat his machines."

Deng walked over to his clothes where they still lay neatly on the floor where he had placed them. He picked them up. Still stinking with sweat, he would put them on after he washed.

The young woman got to her feet and stood in front of him. The clear voiced, confident fortuneteller was gone, replaced by the concerned, wide eyed young woman who had greeted him when he had entered.

"Will you let come with you, my lord?" she pleaded, though she knew the answer would be what it had always been. "Please."

He brushed aside her hair once again and shook his head, "No, the time for a new life has not yet come," he replied. As looked into her dark eyes he could not help but feel hope spring forth within him, "Pray for our victory, and perhaps both our prayers will be answered."

Without thinking she stepped forward and kissed him. He hesitated only a moment before putting his arms about her and kissing her back.

He released her and said, "Now go, go tonight. Go far away from the Nasu, for I will fight him here. Find a good place, a safe place and wait for me. I will find you."

He kissed her once more on the forehead as she cried softly in sorrow, clinging to his neck. She hugged him fiercely until he gently disengaged her. She stepped back as he turned to leave.

"I will go, but how long will I wait, my lord?" she asked as he gained the exit of the tent.

He turned once more and replied, "I do not know, perhaps the cards can tell you."

With that he left. Wracked with uncertainty she eyed the cards that had not been used in Prince Xian's reading. They lay in a neat pile a few feet from her. Making her decision, she gathered them to her and cast a reading for the other mind that had shuffled the cards that night. When finished, she cast the spread and wept at what she found.

In the morning she was gone, just as she had promised, but Deng Zev Nifong never saw her again.


	12. The Art of Lightning Warfare

_Avatar: The Last Airbender_ Created By: Michael Dante DiMartino, Bryan Konietzko  
_Avatar: The Last Airbender_ Owned By: Nickelodeon, a subsidiary of Viacom  
All original content and characters © Acastus

* * *

**  
Chapter XII – The Art of Lightning Warfare**

The echoes of Gao's voice traveled up and down the banquet hall until silence reigned. Zuko looked first at his uncle, who appeared lost in thoughts of melancholy as he stroked his unkempt beard, then at Trimazu, who was looking past Iroh with a similar expression.

After a few more moments the Storyteller concluded, "That morning, after seeing that the young Fortuneteller had obeyed his command, he began to order his army's affairs for the long struggle ahead. Thus did General Nifong prepare for his final conflict with the Fire Nation."

At this the Storyteller broke, as if between the acts of a play. Many audience members used the pause as an opportunity to shift in their seats, motion to a servant for a refill or, as Gao himself did, take a long drink from a nearby glass.

The young Prince turned away from his neighbors to look stonily at the panorama before him. He felt sure the gibberish about Nifong's odyssey was a fool's tale, but this was not the time to question his uncle about it. He brooded silently over the many other questions raised by the Storyteller's tale, but they too would have to wait for a more appropriate time, so he suppressed them viciously.

With no other outlet for his swirling emotions, a question borne of selfish anger erupted in his mind, _"Why did he hide all this from me?"_ The anger converted instantly to shame, however, as another, quieter part of him answered without hesitation,_ "Because you never thought to ask."_ Unnoticed by anyone the banished Prince blushed slowly and looked down.

The audience settled as Gao resumed his position and began anew…

"Let us return, noble lords, to the Princes of the Fire Nation. So far these men have been revealed to you as valiant opponents of the corrupt and ambitious Tien Shin, and I have not misrepresented them in this regard."

"But now you must see them in an altogether different light," said the Storyteller as he raised his hand and the power of his voice slowly increased, "See them now as enemies of the Earth Kingdom, enemies whose twin goals were nothing less than the destruction of our nation and the enslavement of our people! For it is a truth of life that good men are often the authors of the most terrible evils. So it was with Prince Xian and Prince Iroh during the Summer of Terror."

"Oh yes, my friends, now we are come to the dark times. The Fire Nation's mighty armored legions made possible an entirely new way of battle. Years of preparation, training and planning had resulted in the lethally precise art of "Go-Shen" or "lightning war", an art which Prince Xian did unleash upon the world in the course of this dreadful conflict. Without pity or mercy, the Fire Nation once again put forth its power to all crush those who stood against it."

"As the armies of the Fire Lord advanced and the great cities of the Nasu fell before them, tens of thousands of Earth Kingdom soldiers resisted magnificently, but to no avail. The Summer of Terror lasted barely four months, but during that time defeat after crushing defeat yielded at last a rout without order and without purpose. It was, to all outward appearances, the beginning of the end, a time when every heart looked into the future and saw only the gathering darkness…"

* * *

Nikon removed his helmet as he ducked into the tent housing Xian's headquarters. It was stifling hot inside. The sun beat down relentlessly outdoors, but there was at least a pleasant breeze. The stench from the still burning city of Edo behind them, however, was inescapable. Though damaged, that mighty city of over a hundred thousand had been captured largely intact and with few casualties. The Fire Lord had been pleased. 

As usual, Iroh's friend was in an excellent mood. The uncharacteristically dark thoughts that had plagued him after Master Chen's arrest had departed almost as soon as he had set foot in the Earth Kingdom. Though under Tien Shin's nominal command, Nikon had seen little of him since the Battle of the Arno more than three weeks ago, a fact that improved his attitude tremendously.

Most importantly, his men had performed with skill and honor, and the Earth Kingdom defenders had been destroyed with startling ease. Though he himself had ridden in the point tank many a day and night, the unflinching terror which Chieng Shiung's metal monsters inspired among the enemy hardened considerably the young commoner's sense of security. Nikon had often chuckled to himself at this conceit. How much easier it was to be brave when the most you saw of your enemy was his backside!

He wiped the sweat and dirt off his brow with the edge of the black sash around his waist and surveyed the outer chamber of Xian's mobile abode. The two soldiers on guard inside the tent saluted smartly. Nikon returned the salute with a smile on his face and stepped lightly into the interior of the tent.

Two figures in Fire Nation uniforms were hunched over the high, rectangular table that dominated the room. As he approached he could see a large map spread upon it. The two hovered over the map and worked furiously with colored pencils to mark the position of the front lines, the motion of various units and the identity and strength of various enemy formations. The men at the table paid no attention to the newcomer. A messenger squeezed past Nikon on his right and approached the elder of the two figures. A piece of paper changed hands, the messenger saluted and left.

As the messenger raced by him once again, Nikon smiled broadly and proceeded to rush up between the two figures at the table. Laughing loudly, Nikon looped an arm around the neck of both men and squeezed them together.

"Haha! My map buddies!" the young commoner exclaimed merrily. The sentries began sputtering with laughter behind them as both "map buddies" grimaced and tried in vain to extricate themselves from Nikon's iron grip. He gave them both another hearty squeeze as he concluded with both humor and genuine affection, "I _love_ you guys!" The young tank commander, beside himself with suppressed laughter, released them as they began to curse loudly and struggle against him in earnest.

Straightening his uniform after finally freeing himself, the taller of the two rolled his eyes and replied with a sour expression on his face, "Yes, Commander… you know we feel the same way."

The other, far older "map buddy" then entreated in a surly, but strangely tolerant tone, 'Great Spirits, Commander, _must_ you do that every time you come here?"

"You know it, my old friend," Nikon replied with his trademark toothy grin and an impudent wink. Then, adopting a more serious countenance he approached the map board and enquired, "Okay, so, what's going on with the Fire Lord's march to victory on this glorious day? Any word on Nifong?"

Brushing himself off and approaching the table the elder man replied, "We've received a few unconfirmed reports, but nothing conclusive."

Nikon nodded once and asked, "Okay, has Ryu reached Inchon yet?"

"Yes, but he requested and was granted permission to bypass it and make directly for Shimonoseki. Apparently they were able to reinforce the city via monorail before Ryu could destroy it."

"All right. Do we know how many they've got penned up in there?"

"They estimated between six and eight thousand."

Nikon pointed at a thin line connecting several cities on the map that headed east to end near the headwaters of the mighty Arno, "So, he's headed east using the Jade Highway?"

"Yes, Commander."

"So they should be in position to penetrate the eastern escarpment and reach Lake Myojin within…" Nikon's forehead creased as he tried to calculate the distance. Ryu was the vanguard of the army at this point as he had encountered the least resistance. Still, half the Nasu plain lay between him and the passes of the Ping Tou Mountains.

"Four weeks," supplied the old soldier, "if they continue to get a free ride."

"That's unlikely, though," injected the younger man as he handed several dispatches to Nikon, "We've gotten half a dozen of these in the past few days, Commander. An Earth Kingdom relief army is on its way from the lake region up north."

Nikon glanced through the papers and handed them back, "Excellent, haha! It's about time Ryu and Tien Shin earned their keep!"

"And what about you, Commander?" inquired the elderly man, "You've pushed much farther to the south than called for by the plan, and now there's a lot of action developing behind you near Nomura."

Laughing he replied, "Yeh, but the plan was to make a pocket around that area anyway, right? Besides," he concluded with another wink, "I still made it to Cam'ron before our beloved _daimyo_, didn't I?"

Allowing himself a slight, uneasy smile the old man replied, "Yes, Commander, that you did."

"Well, I'm glad to see someone around here is still in a good mood," remarked a familiar, patient voice from in front of them.

The three looked up to see General Xian enter the chamber from a flap on the opposite side of the tent. In his armor he looked much taller and more imposing than he had when Nikon had first met him so many months ago. In his right hand he carried the red baton of command, the symbol of his authority over the Army of the Great Divide. General Ho had been relieved to surrender this artifact as soon as Xian had arrived. A broken man, General Ho had thanked Xian profusely for assuming command and departed on the same tide on which the new army had arrived.

Xian returned the proffered salutes by raising his baton to his forehead with a weak smile. Though the gesture was confident, it looked to Nikon as if his best friend's cousin hadn't slept in weeks. His eyes seemed sunken amidst the blue black pits of his eye sockets. A second sweep over his superior revealed that Xian had also clearly lost weight, though the armor did well to conceal it.

"Good to see you, General. Are you well?" he asked, unable to prevent his tone from betraying his genuine concern.

A shadow passed over Xian's face, but it passed quickly as he replied, "I'm fine, Commander. We're all short of sleep these days."

Nikon frowned. This was obviously a lie, but what could be the matter? The war was going much better than planned – or even hoped. The young commoner looked quickly over at the map keepers, saw the concern in their eyes, and turned back to where Xian rubbed his temples in a giveaway gesture of exhaustion.

After a few moments Nikon cleared his throat and said, "You sent for me, General?"

Xian snapped his head up, and as if waking from a dream replied, "Yes, yes I did."

The general walked over to the map table and gestured for the brigade commander to follow him. Xian then turned and indicated the position of the 5th Armored Brigade on the map, some hundred leagues away to the southeast.

"Commander, your drive to Cam'ron has been brilliant. You have proven resourceful, determined, and brave as I knew you would be," he turned to face Nikon, but despite his words he did not smile, "but now I must ask, why have you swung so far south? Your orders were to head due east after Third Corps captured Argento and completed its pivot eastward."

Nikon's smile faltered and then dropped entirely. He suddenly became aware that everyone in the room was watching him.

Abashed, he pointed at a thin line on the map and replied, "Well, sir, uh, the _daimyo_ took the Cam'ron road away from me, so that left my outfit without a job. Then one of our recon units found a mining village on the edge of the Dune Sea southeast of us. More importantly they reported it was actually sitting on an east – west road that wasn't on any of our maps," growing more excited he continued, "There weren't any enemy units around, so I jumped at the opportunity. I mean, we took the town without a fight, captured the other half of General Jin's baggage train that we didn't already have, and _still_ got to Cam'ron two days before Tien Shin!"

The young commoner's hope that this explanation would please his commanding officer was dashed as the General continued to regard Nikon gravely in silence.

"I see," Xian replied softly after a few moments.

Nikon flushed bright red and looked down in shame. Xian's disappointment was painfully obvious. Though he loved Iroh as a brother, somehow the thought of disappointing this man who had more confidence in him than he had in himself was more dreadful than any other possibility.

"So humbling Tien Shin was worth _doubling_ the number of earthbenders Prince Iroh must now destroy in the pocket around Nomura that you and the _daimyo_ have created behind you?"

"What?" the young commoner asked in shock.

Xian shook his head and continued in a tired voice, "To execute "Go-Shen" properly we must control the size of the pockets we create, Commander. You know this. Encircle too few and we fail to maximize the damage done to our opponents. Encircle too many and the hunters become the hunted."

"If you had obeyed orders you'd have split off at least another three divisions of Earth Kingdom infantry – you _did not need_ the Cam'ron road to do that. And now with half your tanks broken down due to the exertion of your ill-advised race to Cam'ron, you are no longer in a position to help Iroh, are you?"

The question hung in the air, leaden and terrifying in its implication. After a moment Xian concluded in a soft and devastating voice, for Nikon knew that no satisfactory reply could be made, "I asked you to help me whip these people, Commander. You have disappointed me."

The words came as crushing blows, more devastating than any stones that rained down from the heavens during the Battle of the Arno. Struck dumb by Xian's rebuke, Nikon sank to his knees and bowed his head. The sentries and map keepers looked upon the young commander with a mixture of pity and embarrassment, for as much as they genuinely liked him; they knew the censure was warranted.

Seeing the young man's pain, Xian's expression softened. He placed a hand on Nikon's shoulder and said, "It'll be all right, Nikon. Learn from your mistake. Vanity is a disease that works tirelessly to destroy even the best of men, and there is no cure for it. Control it as best you are able, and remember that we are all dependent on each other to achieve the goal set for us by the Fire Lord."

Finding his voice, Nikon replied thickly, "Forgive me, General. I want you and Prince Iroh to be proud of me."

"We are proud of you. You will have a long and glorious life, if only you have the good sense to live it."

Xian looked away and seemed to drift once again as he had earlier. Finally Nikon looked up to see his commanding officer staring past them again at nothing in particular. Xian broke the silence and looked back to Nikon, saying, "Nifong's out there somewhere… waiting for me. Will you be there when the time comes?"

Without hesitation the reply came, "Yes, General, I will."

"Then you will have done all that you can. As for Prince Iroh, he will be tested at Nomura. If he falls, we will be in real trouble. If he crushes the pocket, nothing will stand in our way except Nifong himself. We will see what kind of man he is."

Whether Xian was referring in his last statement to Nifong or Iroh, Nikon never knew.


	13. A Very Bloody Affair

_Avatar: The Last Airbender_ Created By: Michael Dante DiMartino, Bryan Konietzko  
_Avatar: The Last Airbender_ Owned By: Nickelodeon, a subsidiary of Viacom  
All original content and characters © Acastus

* * *

**  
Chapter XIII – A Very Bloody Affair**

Iroh choked as he inhaled a lungful of the black, oily smoke that billowed out of the burning headquarters tent. All around him he heard the cries of wounded and dying men, many of them his own. The laments of the forsaken were punctuated only by the clang of metal on metal and the dull thudding of the huge stones that rained down seemingly from the heavens themselves. The wind shifted, blowing the poisonous cloud away, to reveal the bloody knot of ferocious combat before him. The camp and the east west road that ran through it were awash with struggling, swearing, dead and dying soldiers. The smoke, which burned his throat terribly, had at least momentarily covered the reek of the burning corpses that littered the makeshift battlefield. Iroh suppressed the urge to vomit at the overpowering stench of death.

Breathing raggedly, the Crown Prince spun around on his feet and rapidly scanned the scene. The military police and the headquarters staff were now engaged in desperate hand to hand combat with enemy infantry. The melee raged fiercely without order and without mercy. Uncoordinated firebending attacks had set most of the camp aflame. Forcing himself to breathe regularly, Iroh's brain reeled from the realization that less than ten minutes ago the camp had been about its usual business. Now he and his men were fighting for their lives.

Their position was hopeless. The enemy had charged without warning over the low hill behind the camp. After the initial shock had driven back the panicked defenders, the enemy had formed three firing lines at different heights along the slope of the hill. These grim and resolute earthbenders worked in unison to rain boulders down on the camp, killing both Iroh's men and the Earth Kingdom infantry indiscriminately. Their strategy was brutal and effective. Soon, Iroh knew, he and his men would be dead.

Before he could complete his survey or reflect further upon the grim fate that was almost certainly in store for them, Iroh caught sight of a gritty Earth Kingdom warrior removing his sword from the corpse of a Fire Nation soldier a few feet to his right. Sensing eyes upon him even amidst the battle, the earthbender looked up to meet the Crown Prince's gaze. With a roar the rough man lunged at Iroh, who stepped blithely out of the way. He struck the back of his assailant's neck as he passed, knocking him to the ground, limp and unconscious.

The victory proved ephemeral, however, as two other green clad men appeared to take the fallen soldier's place. Both lifted rocks out of the ground and kicked them at Iroh, who rolled to the ground to allow the boulders to pass over him. Certain his prostrate position would cost him his life, the Crown Prince was relieved to look up and see a sword protruding from the stomach of one of the Earth Kingdom soldiers who had just shot at him. The stricken man's companion had only a moment to turn to his dying friend and the young Fire Nation soldier who had dealt the fatal blow before both were killed by the sudden impact of a boulder the size of a mill stone.

The dull thudding of the stones hitting the ground grew to an ear splitting crescendo as Iroh regained his feet. He turned to see an Earth Kingdom soldier take aim at him from a distance with a large stone. He drew a sharp breath in anticipation of the attack, only to catch a glimpse of yet another green clad soldier, this one wearing a fine breastplate of steel, approach him from his left. The newcomer was already in the middle of swinging his sword at him when in a split second Iroh grabbed the man's wrist and pulled him into the path of the oncoming rock. The Earth Kingdom officer's face froze in a twisted mask of horror an instant before his head exploded in a bloody shower of bone and brain.

Ignoring the collapse of the headless corpse, Iroh launched two fireballs in rapid succession from his fists at the soldier who had hurled the fatal rock. Both blasts hit their target, one in the face and the other in the chest. The Earth Kingdom soldier screamed in agony as his hands flew to his face in a vain attempt to stop his skin from melting off his skull.

A Fire Nation soldier approached the burning man with his sword drawn, but was stopped by another who shouted, "No! Let him burn!"

Stepping sideways the Crown Prince turned to see his own death rushing towards him. No less than half a dozen earthbenders jumped gracefully over the fallen bodies of his staff just a few yards away. As Iroh began firing blast after blast at his assailants in a last ditch effort to stave off death, he felt the ground begin to shake beneath him in resonance with the ear splitting thudding that had been steadily building throughout the fight. Both he and his attackers were thrown off balance. As the world wobbled, Iroh could see the green clad men on the hill flail about as well.

He turned to his right to look west down the road and fell to his knees. His assailants did likewise. The last sight they ever saw was the column of Fire Nation tank trains hurtling down the road towards them at amazing speed. Each tank train towed several towering pieces of artillery. Grey smoke belched forth from their smoke stacks as their treads chewed up the surface of the road, leaving the earth scarred and broken in their wake.

In the blink of an eye the lead tank train passed in front of Iroh no more than a few feet away. The sudden passing of such a huge amount of metal created a concussion of air that blew him backwards. Of the earthbenders who had been closing in on him there was no sign at all, they had simply ceased to exist. Struggling to recover, Iroh heard the protest of metal on metal as the tank trains applied their breaks. Soon after the lead tank train and its towage had passed, he saw the second ride up the hill, erasing dozens more of the green clad soldiers. Those who escaped the metal monsters scattered in terror.

Within moments a third and fourth tank train slid into the camp, their treads locked as they tried to slow down. The rear compartments of each machine then swung open allowing Fire Nation soldiers to disembark.

The expressions of the Earth Kingdom warriors still fighting in the camp did not change, even though it was clear the tide had turned against them. Iroh heard a cheer erupt from those of his men still alive. He could not raise his own voice to join them in celebration since he was at that moment knocked rudely to ground by a blunt object across his back. His breastplate protected him from the blow, but he found his face in the dirt once again.

Flipping himself over he saw a tall man in a grey uniform, briefly obscured by a cloud of the oily black smoke, deftly slice in two a fat earth kingdom soldier wielding a mallet.

The man in grey smiled and offered Iroh a hand to get up, remarking, "No more laying down on the job, your Highness, we've got work to do yet."

"Gan!" exclaimed the Prince, happy for the second time that his bookish friend had joined them.

"None other," his friend replied.

Iroh smiled in turn, took the proffered hand and lifted himself to his feet. Somewhere beyond them he heard a female voice as distinct as a signature yell, _"Get your asses into this fight! You hear me? Now!"_

They both turned to see Chieng, small in the distance atop the lead tank train, push several of her engineers off the top of the machine with a bo staff and into the fight still raging below. A moment later she dropped down after them and was lost from view.

Gan and Iroh turned without comment back to the battle. The fight was not over, but the arrival of the tank trains assured the outcome. The Earth Kingdom soldiers still within the burning camp quickly found themselves trapped. Unable to escape, they fought as men who cared nothing for their lives, but it was not enough to save them. Within minutes the carnage was over, the remnants of the Earth Kingdom infantry was slain.

Some time later, Chieng, her staff bloody and her face smeared with dirt, came upon Iroh and Gan kneeling next the crushed corpse of a Fire Nation soldier. He was young, no more than a boy. His uniform, emblazoned with the symbol of the sun, marked him as a servant of the Crown Prince. Iroh, his head bowed in silent prayer, held the dead man's hand in his own. Beside them lay the massive mill stone sized boulder that had felled him and a nearby earthbender.

The engineer walked up to them and remarked without preamble, "A pathetic performance all around, your Highness," but Iroh and Gan paid her no attention. After several moments of what anyone else would have interpreted as an awkward silence the engineer pointed at the corpse and asked brusquely, "Well, who is this, then?"

"A brave young man," Iroh replied gently, replacing the man's hand on his broken chest, "who saved my life today at the cost of his own. I never even knew his name."

Chieng's gaze swept over the body and she nodded once before stating confidently, "He died with honor then, my Lord, and as long as you live he will not have died in vain."

Gan turned to the dark haired woman in some surprise, for he had not expected such a sentiment from the foul mouthed engineer.

Iroh looked up at her briefly, then back to the corpse and said, "Thank you, Chieng, but I find that I now owe so many brave souls my life, I wonder how I will ever repay them."

"Find our enemies and destroy them utterly, your Highness," supplied Chieng, in an unintentional imitation of the Fire Lord's command to Prince Xian months before.

"I intend to," the Crown Prince replied solemnly. Rising to his feet he queried, "How much do you know of our situation here?"

"Very little," Gan admitted, "as soon as we learned you were pinned down here at Nomura, we left Edo and got here as fast as we could."

"Fine, get me your maps and I will explain," commanded Iroh.

Soon the three sat around a duplicate of the large area map that had burned with the command tent. Two of Iroh's surviving aides-de camp sat in attendance. Using a piece of charcoal Iroh directed the aides to mark the positions of friend and foe. The picture slowly became clear. Several thousand Earth Kingdom soldiers were surrounded in a pocket in the hill country in front of them. Iroh's army in turn was bisected by the remains of General Jin's infantry, much of which had been left unmolested as a result of Nikon's southward deviation. The open plains east of the hills suggested that Jin's infantry was free to counterattack as soon as they could reach the Prince's exposed besieging force.

"So, a pocket within a pocket?" mused Gan after Iroh concluded his description.

"Yes, that is what it will be if we don't act fast. We can't let that happen," stated Iroh firmly. "To prevent a disaster we must crush this pocket immediately. I've used every trick in the book to delay open combat here long enough for you to arrive," then turning to Chieng he said, "however, it may already be too late. You know now why I sent for you. Are you ready to deploy the artillery?"

"I am."

"It must be in place by nightfall, Chieng, do you understand?"

Chieng indicated that she understood and left to carry out her orders.

By sunset a new headquarters had been set up on a nearby hillock. Chieng had provided for this by donating one of the train cars that had been loaded with artillery shells. Secure in their metal abode, the few survivors of Iroh's staff did their best to plan the coming battle. Runners on mongoose dragons pulled up to the headquarters in quick succession and messenger hawks arrived at short intervals to deliver information about the enemy.

The final streaks of sunlight stained the sky to the west as Iroh peered through his field glasses at the enemy lines in front of him. The adrenalin fueled excitement from the morning had long since dissipated, leaving only the angst ridden air of expectation. The enemy, ragged and half starved from weeks of retreat, nevertheless remained a considerable fighting force.

Iroh handed the glasses to Gan, who queried, "How many in this bunch?"

"Brigade strength at least. Maybe two thousand."

Gan scanned the low hills in front of them where heavily manned trenches could be seen in the fading light. Close by on their left and right the forward positions of Iroh's infantry sheltered quietly behind their metal shields. The Fire Nation line stretched north and east quickly out of sight.

"How long have they been there?"

"Three days. We trapped and destroyed the other half of Gao's division in a large ravine three or four leagues that way," replied Iroh pointing west, "while my mongoose cavalry were trapping this group here."

"You've been busy," he commented, handing the glasses back.

"Yes, far busier than a lazy man like me had hoped," the Crown Prince replied with a wry smile.

"How have you held them here for that long without engaging? Let me guess, you had them over for tea?"

"Oh, do you think they'd come?" Iroh quipped, his smile now threatening to break his face, "I have some of that lovely green tea we found in Edo!"

Gan laughed and was soon joined by his friend. As they spoke two mongoose dragons arrived, one behind the other. On the first, a young man with lieutenant bars, dark hair and traditional Fire Nation sideburns dismounted and approached them on foot. The second bore Chieng, now cleaned up with her dark hair pinned in a bun.

The eldest son of the Fire Lord turned and received the young man's salute. Behind the messenger the engineer approached, hands behind her back, apparently interested to hear what news was about to be delivered.

"Good news, your Highness," the young man said, offering Iroh a letter in a dark green envelope, "Colonel Gao has agreed to your terms."

Iroh nodded once, threw a shrewd look at his friend and replied, "Thank you, Lieutenant Diem," then, turning to look over Chieng he asked, "Is the artillery in place?"

The engineer nodded in the affirmative and Iroh declared with grim satisfaction, "Excellent. Then we will attack as planned."

Confused, the young lieutenant offered the message once again to Iroh asking, "What about this, sir? Won't we reply?"

Iroh laughed and responded, "Oh yes, we surely will! With fire and destruction we shall answer them!"

"But, sir, the enemy has offered to surrender…?"

The Crown Prince regarded the young soldier for a moment before replying, "And just what would we do with them, Lieutenant? The enemy outnumbers us by five to one at least. It is a shame these men must die, but die they will today."

Diem locked eyes with Iroh momentarily before shifting his gaze to Gan, who wore a smile every bit as deadly as Iroh's.

Chieng regarded Iroh calmly for a moment before stating flatly, "You will make an excellent Fire Lord, your Highness."

Iroh turned to her in surprise. A strange mix of pleasure and embarrassment swept over him. A compliment from such a severe judge was indeed a rarity, but if Chieng was blunt in the delivery of her insults, she was no less emphatic when she bestowed her infrequent praise. They looked at each other for a moment before she turned and began to walk back to her dark and silent tank train.

"Aren't you going to stay for the rest of the show?" Iroh called after her, "Your assistance is always welcome," he continued in a hopeful tone, and much to his surprise he meant it.

Chieng turned and replied, "Not a chance, your Highness. I'm late to save Nikon's ass out east. Looks like he took Cam'ron sooner than we hoped, but didn't have any plan for holding onto it."

"What do you mean," Iroh queried with sudden concern.

"Yeh, it's true. I just heard that your buddy broke half of my tanks trying to get to Cam'ron before Tien Shin," she explained with bitterness, "I know he's your friend, but he's also an idiot, and now he's been caught with his pants down."

Infuriated at her attitude Iroh retorted fiercely, "So, instead of hurling insults, why don't you get over there and get that armor back in action?"

Chieng regarded him coolly and replied, "I intend to, your Highness, since he is in as much need of my help as you were this morning."

Understanding dawned on Iroh as he drew a long breath, "They're under attack?"

Chieng nodded and replied, suddenly uncomfortable, "Yes, we received a messenger hawk from Southern Command almost at the same time as yours. Nifong has finally decided to make his move, and has attacked Nikon while he is overextended. I'm sorry."

Iroh turned to Gan for confirmation and saw it instantly in his friend's troubled eyes. Gan nodded and supplied glumly, "It's true, your Highness. After your step brother took the Cam'ron road away from him, he found some other east - west highway not on the map and used it to beat Tien Shin to the city."

His heart instantly aflame, Iroh exclaimed, "I've got to help him!" He turned to yell for his aides, but the engineer's hand on his shoulder stopped him short, her grip firm but strangely gentle. The Crown Prince turned to her, fear and anger visible in his eyes.

"Don't compound your friend's mistake with another, Prince Iroh," advised Chieng in a low voice, "I know you care for him, but you cannot help him now. You have your own fight here, one that you and your men will be hard pressed to win as it is."

She was right, and he knew it. Her hand dropped from his shoulder. Iroh noticed the men nearby react to her inappropriate display of familiarity, but ignored it.

"His best hope," continued Chieng in the same low voice, "ironically enough, lies with Tien Shin, who has wisely advanced without running his tanks into the ground. I've got to round up the rest of my column and get there as soon as possible. I'll salvage what I can."

Iroh raised a hand to his forehead in frustration before replying in a choked voice, "Then go, Chieng, and whatever you do, you mustn't fail!"

A few moments passed before, locking eyes with Iroh, she declared, "I may not be a firebender," she said, rapping the side of her tank train with the palm of her hand, "but I have other weapons the enemy has learned to fear! I will do all I can, my Lord, you have my word."

The Crown Prince's heart swelled with gratitude at the engineer's oath. Her performance that morning gave him more hope of saving Nikon than anything possible from the man who hated his friend with such passion.

Chieng saluted. Iroh returned the gesture before springing forward and surprising her with a crushing bear hug, "I have no doubt about that. May the Spirit of the Sun protect you and bring you success," holding back tears he continued, "Nikon's a good man and a true servant of the Fire Nation." He drew in another deep breath, "Please, don't let him die on me."

The engineer had stiffened on contact, but, after a brief hesitation, relaxed upon hearing Iroh's plea. She hugged him back briefly and replied, "I won't."

With that she climbed up into her tank train. A few minutes later, her train roared to life and was gone, leaving only clouds of swirling dust on the road to Cam'ron.

He watched her leave, then walked back with Gan to where Diem still stood at his mongoose dragon awaiting orders.

"Lieutenant," instructed Prince Iroh, "Order all batteries to fire at will."

* * *

_AN: Pardon the delay folks, the season two finale preparations, the ASN interviews and the like took a lot more time than I expected! Also, pardon the lengthy description in this and succeeding chapters. Battle sequences are generally heavy on description and though I've tried to pare it down, some shift in storytelling emphasis is required as we build up to the battles of Lake Myojin and Mequon. For those who stick with me, I promise I will write to the best of my ability. Thanks again._


	14. The Universe of Battle

_Avatar: The Last Airbender_ Created By: Michael Dante DiMartino, Bryan Konietzko  
_Avatar: The Last Airbender_ Owned By: Nickelodeon, a subsidiary of Viacom  
All original content and characters © Acastus

* * *

**  
Chapter XIV – The Universe of Battle**

The crowd registered its displeasure at the storyteller's admission of Prince Iroh's treachery with boos and catcalls. Gao nodded his head soberly a few times at the audience's response and motioned with his outstretched arms for quiet.

"Yes, friends, it is true," he continued as the disturbance subsided, "That night the catapults and trebuchet of Chieng Shiung turned the grassy downs of Nomura into a sea of fire, and very few lived to tell the tale of the Crown Prince's deceit."

Zuko, transfixed against his will by the storyteller's art, now stole a glance at his uncle. Though he knew his uncle had had a successful military career before his infamous failure, Zuko had always thought of him as soft. Unexpected pride had swelled within Zuko's heart at the recounting of this tale, and the banished Prince felt the intense desire to question his uncle about it, but his hopes quickly faltered.

The retired general looked silently down at his hands, his face an impassive mask. Iroh could feel his nephew's eyes, but he refused to meet them. Locked away deep in the recesses of his own mind, he heard the catcalls of the audience as if from a distance. Or were they the screams of burning men? It was hard to tell. In his mind's eye he saw the hills afire, and rank upon rank of advancing Fire Nation soldiers. He couldn't remember much of his recent history with any clarity, but his memories of those days seemed sharper and clearer than even what he felt at this moment.

Shame washed over him like a cold river, painful and yet strangely comforting. It was not the first time he had felt it, and would not be the last. He had done many deeds he now knew to be dishonorable, and this was but one. It had taken him almost a lifetime to realize that the source of his shame was often not the acts themselves, but the realization that he had believed himself right when performing them, and the years he spent not only unrepentant of those acts, but remembering them with pride.

Not even the death of Xian and all the horrors that Iroh knew were yet to come from the aging storyteller had taught him the truth of his shame at Nomura. Although these memories remained clear, it was not these that welled up now to greet him. Instead, he shut his eyes and winced almost imperceptibly as he pushed the image of his son from his mind. _No, _he thought, _now is not the time to remember_ _you, my son, as I should. That loss is too great, and for your young cousin's sake I cannot risk discovery in this place. Forgive me, my son, that you had to die for me to learn the value of life will ever be my greatest shame._

"Yes!" came a now all too familiar booming voice, "That Iroh! What a bastard, haha! I daresay he will roast in hell for that one!"

Iroh grimaced at the voice, as he had done many times that night, but this time for a different reason.

"Even I leave my opponent's alive after I have skinned them!" Then, turning to his right and looking past Iroh and Zuko continued, "Isn't that right, Chen Ho?"

Chen looked up at his tormentor from where he sat in a wine soaked stupor twirling his mustache and replied thickly, "Oh yes, you're well known for your mercy, Trimazu. Everyone knows you eat what you skin. You don't get a figure like yours eating tofu."

Trimazu laughed genuinely and replied, "Well spoken, my friend," then continuing in his conspiratorial tone, "Trust me when I advise you to be in your cups when next we negotiate. I guarantee you'll do better than you ever have before!"

A contemptuous snort was Chen's only reply.

Gao then addressed the master of the house, saying, "Indeed, my lord, what you have said is true, though what I have described here was just one small skirmish. A complete catalog of the Fire Nation's crimes that summer would surely fill Wan Shi Tong's library past the brim! Unfortunately, Master Trimazu, the night speeds by, and I'm afraid I can offer your noble guests only those events that deal directly with the matters at hand."

"And well you do it, my friend!" exclaimed the merchant merrily, slapping his knee, "Please continue," he commanded, waving one of his heavily jeweled hands, "It sounds as if Deng the Hammer has Nikon in a bad way, and I'd hear more of that!"

The storyteller bowed low and turning back to the audience began, "While Prince Iroh waged war at Nomura and won himself great glory, far to the east the winds of change had begun to blow as the stage was set for the first, great reversal of fortune during the Summer of Terror…"

* * *

Nikon ducked the moment he heard the telltale rush of air that immediately preceded a boulder strike. An instant after he closed the upper hatch the stone struck the top of the tank and shattered into a cloud of dust and rock shards. Nikon grimaced as the insides of the machine rang like some enormous bell with the impact. It was the third time they'd been hit. 

He opened one eye as the ringing diminished. Beneath and in front of him on his right the tank driver was frantically working the controls and yelling, "Come on! Come on! Damn you!" as he struggled desperately to keep them moving. The gunner on his left was rapid firing volley after volley of fiery blasts, while the gunner on his right was praying. He clearly had something to pray for, since the last boulder strike had caused the armor on his side of the machine to buckle. His firing port was not obstructed, but it was bent grotesquely inwards such that he would need to lean back upon the platform on which Nikon stood in order to have enough room to fire. In the back of the cockpit the rear gunner sat with his back against the engine compartment bulkhead where he'd died at least an hour before. Pale and with a trickle of dried blood from his mouth he looked merely asleep.

Placing his foot on the praying man's shoulder Nikon admonished, 'Hey, no time for that."

The soldier jerked at the touch, turned and looked up at him. He had an impossibly young face, caked with dust and streaked with tears.

"If you stop firing, it gives them more opportunity to hit your side again," he continued above the fractious noise of the engine, "Don't make it any easier!"

The gunner nodded once and turned back to his firing port. Nikon reached up and grabbed the handle of the inner hatch. He thrust upward with a mighty heave. For a moment the hatch did not move, then slowly and with considerable protest it began to lift. A moment later dirt and rock fell into the cockpit as the hatch swung open, adding to the existing pile at Nikon's feet. With a final clang the hatch came to a rest in its open position, knocking several larger stones and more dust off the top and down the armored siding.

Iroh's friend stood up and surveyed the scene as he quickly excavated the now severely damaged vent that carried his voice commands down to the driver and gunners. The battlefield was cloaked in a haze of dust and smoke. His entire brigade, or that part of it that had not broken down or been destroyed, was engaged in close combat with Nifong's vaunted cavalry. The field was littered with Earth Kingdom dead as well as the occasional shell of a destroyed Fire Nation machine.

He watched as several tanks fired simultaneously at a farm house more than a mile away on the crest of a nearby ridge. Flames leapt to the heavens as the structure was engulfed in fire. To his right he could see no more than a thousand feet due to the smoke and dust of combat.

The battle had raged with varying intensity for days. All semblance of order and identifiable front lines had broken down the day before when Chieng had arrived. The enemy had tried in vain to stop her arrival, but had paid for the attempt with many lives. Nikon's armor had broken dozens of cavalry charges and killed many earthbenders, but each time they had returned.

Chieng had come with a column of the monstrous tank trains that held him in such awe when he had first seen them disembark on the beaches of Gela. Massive blocks of steel and iron powered by engines mightier than the earth, he had been momentarily as terrified of them as no doubt the Earth Kingdom peasants were of his tanks. Only when he learned of the time and energy it took to build and maintain them did he understand why they weren't themselves the primary offensive weapon of the new army.

She had spoken harshly upon seeing him in the main square of Cam'ron the day before. This in itself was nothing new. The difference this time was that the truth of her words hurt as badly as those of Xian's.

Amidst the heat and blood drenched insanity of battle, the memory of his encounter with the blunt engineer flashed across his mind with startling clarity. What had once been a beautiful, if simple, fountain plaza had been turned into a junk yard of mangled, smoking tanks and equipment. The dead and dying lined the square under the awnings of buildings where carts full of produce had been only a week before. The smell of the battlefield was pleasant in comparison, since there at least the wind and the dust covered up the smell of the mutilated carcasses and the heaps of burnt machinery. One side of the plaza was completely blocked with parked and partially unloaded tank trains.

Nikon had dismounted from his tank which had lost both treads to earthbending attacks and approached her. He was filthy, his face weary and heavily lined with cares.

"_Did you see Prince Iroh, Chieng?"_ he had begun without preamble, _"What have you heard about Nomura? Is he alive?"_

Chieng had turned from where she was supervising several men welding plate armor and looked at him in stony silence.

"_He seemed well enough to me when I last saw him, Commander," _she finally replied, surveying him coldly, _"which is more than I can say for you."_

"_What the hell do you mean by that_?" he'd replied in uncharacteristic anger,_ "I'm alive!"_

Instead of immediately replying she signaled for two of her black clad technicians to come over. Ignoring Nikon she instructed them to install new treads on the young commoner's tank. Behind them he saw half a dozen intact machines lined up for refueling.

Finally she turned to him and remarked, _"That's not what your eyes and your face tell me. The shadow of death hangs over you for what you've done here. Pride, rather out of place for a commoner, has lead _directly_ to this disaster. Forget about Iroh, get back in your tank and deal with the situation you've created, you jackass."_

She turned and left without waiting for a response, but in truth none was forthcoming. He had been struck dumb. He opened his mouth to scream with the helpless rage he felt welling up within him, but nothing emerged.

This moment of melancholy was shattered as a noise in front of him refocused his attention on the present. The screams of two Fire Nation soldiers in front of them were cut short as Nikon's tank ran them over.

Crouching back down into the well he yelled at the driver, "Damn it, Jin! Those were our men! Watch where the hell we're going for heaven's sake!" Nikon thundered furiously down at the driver.

"I'm sorry, sir!" came the panicked reply, "I'm trying to keep us moving and…," his reply was interrupted as the machine bottomed out over a some irregularity in the ground surface, the source of which Nikon did not want to contemplate. Nikon braced himself on the metal railing to prevent himself from falling over into the cockpit as the driver continued, "I think… I think the steering column's been damaged! I can't…"

Jin was interrupted by the left hand gunner who, transfixed by something outside, exclaimed, "Commander, look!"

Nikon emerged again from the hatch and looked left. Several hundred feet away two of his tanks raced eastward along the embankment of a nearby dry creek. Three ostrich horses and their riders bore down on them, but the first was engulfed in flame by a blast from the lead tank and then all three were simply run over.

Confused, Nikon failed to see what the gunner was talking about until a moment later when half a dozen ostrich cavalry swooped in on the lead tank's right side. Through earthbending they held aloft between them, three riders on each side, a cone shaped rock nearly six feet long and three feet at the base.

Nikon yelled into the severely damaged communication vent, "Left turn sixty degrees! Now! Gunners to forward positions!" Protesting, the left tread sputtered, allowing the tank to turn fitfully to the left as its forward momentum slowed to a crawl.

"Fire!" he screamed as the green clad cavalrymen came into their direct line of sight. Nikon himself breathed deeply and rapid fired half a dozen fire blasts. Beneath him the gunners followed his example and the air itself seemed to explode in flame, but it was too late.

Before the whips of fire could travel the distance between them, Nifong's men thrust the massive stone dagger into the side of the tank. The cavalrymen pulled quickly away and with a series of simultaneous, identical gestures exploded the stone projectile inside the machine. The upper hatch blew off, allowing a shower of stone shards and a shell of expanding gas and dust to escape. Smoke followed quickly as the tank's left tread slowed, turning the tank leftward. The machine lurched in slow motion over the embankment and into the dry creek where it exploded with a plume of fire.

The machine behind them then fired on the cavalrymen, who were hit with the blasts from that tank and Nikon's at once. The Earth Kingdom soldiers and their mounts were engulfed in fire instantly. Most fell off their ostrich horses and writhed in the dust as they burned alive inside their heavy armor, but two remained in the saddle as their mounts, afire from head to foot, bucked wildly.

The rear tank fired two more blasts, hitting two cavalrymen who tried to race by, then swung quickly to avoid the impact of a large stone boulder that fell from the sky. The boulder buried itself in the soft ground, inflicting no damage on the Fire Nation machine.

Nikon looked east and saw another wall of green clad cavalry forming on the ridge where the farmhouse still burned. He ordered his tank to stop and then looked up, calmed his breathing, and shot a plume of blue fire into the sky. Instantly all the Fire Nation tanks still operating in his field of vision turned and began to race toward his position. Another bloody charge was about to begin.

* * *

Long after midnight Nikon and his column passed victorious once more through the gates of Cam'ron. Unlike the triumphal entry a week ago, this time his men were filthy, tired and demoralized. Most of his machines had survived, but they too looked haggard and beaten. The battle had finally ended when the moon had set, leaving the landscape in total darkness save for the art of the firebenders. The enemy, finally exhausted, quit the battlefield. 

Upon gaining the fountain plaza, Nikon dismounted from his machine. His brigade came pouring in behind him and within minutes the square was drowned in a cacophony of engine noise, squealing metal and the curses and yelling of men. Quickly the machines were parked and preparations were made by all to succumb to the fatigue they all felt.

Nikon scanned the scene, exhausted, but curious. The plaza was alive with lights and activity. Chieng's technicians were as busy as before, though she herself was nowhere to be seen. A row of red lanterns had been hung at the end of the plaza opposite the parked tank trains. Underneath the lanterns a row of clean, black Fire Nation tanks sat in perfect order. Behind the row of tanks, two enormous fire pots burned on each side of one of the large doorways that led from the largest building on that side of the plaza. Next to each of the fire pots a guard stood watch in front of a pair of open picture windows.

After instructing his men to stand down for the night, he grabbed the nearest technician and asked where the tanks had come from.

The technician looked quickly from side to side before replying quietly, "_Daimyo_ Tien Shin arrived a few hours ago, Commander," then pointing to the door between the fire pots he continued in a whisper, "and I think he's waiting for you."

Nikon closed his eyes as if in pain. Weariness swept over him, but he forced himself to open his eyes and walk towards the door despite his leaden feet. The windows were open on either side of the door, for even at night the summer heat was oppressive. Inside he could hear two voices. A few steps closer and he was able to identify them as Chieng and Tien Shin.

"Not as bad as it could have been," Chieng responded no doubt in answer to a question Nikon had just missed, "The plate steel held up well."

"How many confirmed kills?" came the other voice, unmistakably Tien Shin's, but anxious and strained as he had never heard it before.

The guards saluted stiffly without making eye contact as Nikon approached. He returned the salute, opened the door and walked into the building. The entry hall was wooden and unadorned. Overhead an ancient iron lantern hung from the ceiling, casting a dim light which failed utterly to dispel the gloom. The objects of his eavesdropping were in the first room on the left which was accessible through an open doorway. He halted for a moment to listen as the voices from within continued.

"No more than thirty," the engineer replied, "though I haven't received the final figures."

"Have you been to the field yourself?"

"Yes."

"What weaknesses were they able to exploit? Did you examine any of the wrecks?" he asked, his voice maintaining its intensity.

"I only saw three or four close enough to really tell," Chieng replied in a clinical tone, "but from what I could see most of them suffered from catastrophic failures of the flank or rear armor. Front and top proved impenetrable as predicted."

"And the treads?" the _daimyo_ prompted.

"Resisted most attacks, but the plate guards made the treads difficult for them to target. The bottom line is that our tanks were generally mobile enough to avoid the overwhelming majority of earthbending attacks," Chieng paused a moment before continuing with less enthusiasm, "We lost as many as we did because we allowed the enemy to achieve enough local superiority for them to get ten attempts on each tank before we torched them."

Nikon breathed deeply then turned the corner into the room to see Tien Shin and Chieng standing by the picture window he had seen from outside. Tien Shin stood erect in his uniform, his back to Nikon. Though brighter than the hallway, this chamber had only a few fire pots to light it. Most of the illumination streamed in from the plaza. The pair stood by one of the fire pots, the flames casting weird shadows around their figures as they spoke. The _daimyo_ paused as he considered the engineer's assessment.

"If we stop here for a few days I can conduct further analysis," Chieng offered.

Tien Shin shook his head in a decisive gesture, "No, this mess has cost us much of the lead we'd developed in these first two months. We must push eastward again without delay. If Nifong wishes to engage the organized might of the entire Fire Nation forces in this –"

The _daimyo_ stopped speaking as he detected another presence in the room. He turned and faced Nikon, who saluted bitterly.

The heat and noise of the plaza streamed in from the window, but to Nikon it felt as cold and silent as a tomb. Tien Shin regarded his subordinate with dead, dark, unblinking eyes.

"Leave us," he commanded the engineer without breaking eye contact with Nikon.

Chieng complied silently, leaving through the door Nikon had just used to enter. A trace of sympathy marked her face as she passed the young commoner, but he did not notice. A few moments later she exited the front door and she soon disappeared completely from view into the maze of tanks and equipment in the square.

Finally, Tien Shin approached Iroh's friend. He stopped a few paces from Nikon and without a word or change in expression slapped him soundly across the face. The blow stung, but Nikon accepted it. Xian and Chieng had already shamed him for his hubris, now he knew he must face his tormentor for the same offense.

"You deserve to be relieved for what you've done. You know that, don't you?" the _daimyo_ began in a low voice.

"Answer me!" he commanded when it became clear Nikon was unable or unwilling to respond.

"Yes, my lord," Nikon responded in a bitter acknowledgement of the truth, "I do."

"And if I were in command, not that soft hearted imbecile Xian, you would be, you miserable peasant!" thundered Tien Shin suddenly, his eyes seething with anger.

"Don't you _see_ what you've done here?" Tien Shin asked, his voice breaking, "Let me help you! Not only did you lose almost a quarter of your tanks and hundreds of loyal Fire Nation soldiers who deserved better, but you gave _him_ four whole days to probe for weaknesses in our new weaponry! _That's_ what you've done!"

"Yes, my lord," countered Nikon stubbornly, "but for all the bad mistakes I've made to get us here, we were victorious. All Nifong has to show for his effort is a couple thousand dead earthbenders."

"So what? How do _you_ know he didn't learn something worth that sacrifice? He's been _waiting_ for an opportunity like this – right from the start!"

Tien Shin snorted derisively as Nikon dropped his gaze to the floor.

"Oh, Great Spirits," the tall man remarked with an edge of frustration in his voice, "I'll wager Xian never even mentioned this as a consequence, did he? I heard all he talked about was putting his beloved Iroh in danger."

Nikon, fear surging again within him, raised his head and asked, "Have you any news from Nomura, my lord?"

A sharp smile spread across the _daimyo's_ face as he replied in the deadly conversational tone to which Nikon was most accustomed, "It seems Prince Iroh has more leadership potential than his cousin. The outcome in Nomura is still in doubt, but he and his men are apparently fighting well."

"The truth is you are damned lucky," Tien Shin continued in disgust, "I'd bet a thousand gold that Iroh is going to smash that pocket and that the Fire Lord's propaganda machine is going to make you a spirits be damned hero for this tactical disaster."

The smile disappeared completely from Tien Shin's face as he pointed an accusatory finger at Nikon, "And for _what_ reason, exactly, did you put us all in jeopardy?" He paused, waiting for a reply he knew would not come, "So you could beat me to Cam'ron?" he supplied with mock incredulity.

"Petty, costly, unforgivably stupid," he spat, and then concluded in a tone of utter disdain, "and exactly what everyone expected from a low life piece of gutter trash like you."

Tien Shin stepped forward and put his face right up to Nikon's and with his deadly smile returning once more, spoke in a low, threatening voice, "If you make another "mistake" like this again, Orlando, I will have you arrested and executed. Neither Xian nor Iroh will be able to protect you. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, my lord. I understand."

"Excellent, Commander. I advise you to learn from your mistakes and pray for General Xian's health. If either fails your life won't be worth more than the time it will take me to find you. Dismissed."

Nikon, numb from exhaustion and shame, left the building as the first streaks of sunlight stained the eastern sky.


	15. The Killing Fields

_Avatar: The Last Airbender_ Created By: Michael Dante DiMartino, Bryan Konietzko  
_Avatar: The Last Airbender_ Owned By: Nickelodeon, a subsidiary of Viacom  
All original content and characters © Acastus

* * *

**  
Chapter XV – The Killing Fields**

The sun had sunk low in the west as two riders approached the deserted battlefield. A light, hot breeze ruffled the riders' hair and brought to their noses the faintest scent of scorched earth. Both men wore cloaks of grey and rode ostrich horses with simple saddle and bridle. An observer might easily have thought them merely a pair of weary travelers wandering a lonely, broken land, but they were not.

The taller of the two riders looked up momentarily to mark the solitary wall of a building, blackened by fire, that jutted up to the sky a mile or two away. _"We're close",_ he thought silently. Similar signs of ferocious combat had marked their travel now for many miles.

After a few minutes they mounted a low hill. At its crest they were finally able to look down onto the killing fields of Cam'ron. The tall man scanned the scene and drew a sharp intake of breath at what he saw. Hundreds, perhaps thousands, of what could only be grave markers littered the wide, flat expanse before them. Scattered amongst these markers lay the twisted remains of a dozen or so of Chieng's mighty war machines. The failing sunlight struck the ominous metal carcasses at an angle, casting weird shadows across the wasted landscape.

The wind whispered a moment longer before the shorter man spoke in an uneasy voice, "Feels haunted, General."

Nifong exhaled slowly and replied, "It is. We should leave before nightfall."

They lingered a moment longer before the taller man nudged his mount forward, his aide following behind. Soon they began to pass grave markers on either side. These were short, iron spikes that stuck in the ground at oddly spaced intervals. On many of them hung dented or smashed Fire Nation helmets.

After some time they came upon three ruined tanks in relatively close proximity. Nifong stopped and dismounted. One of the tanks had been flipped over, its belly cracked wide open by the impact of a large boulder. Another had apparently fallen into a nearby dry creek and exploded, leaving nothing but its treads and flooring intact. Somewhat farther away another looked simply asleep, missing nothing but its treads. Nifong wandered closer and saw that its front wheels had sunk into a pair of deep holes cut out of the living earth.

"Do you see it, Captain?" inquired the general as the younger man dismounted and joined him at the cluster of metal tombs.

"See what, sir?" the younger man replied as he wiped the sweat from his forehead.

Nifong did not reply immediately, instead focusing his gaze on the other wrecks around them one after another. His aide, much accustomed to his superior's frequent reticence, reached out and touched the tank closest to him. Running his hand along its side he felt the smooth, metal surface, cool even in the heat of high summer.

Suddenly, the older man turned and announced, "Come, we must return. I've seen what I needed to see here."

"What did you see that wasn't in the reports, sir?"

"How we will win, Captain," he replied softly, "How we will win."

"Really, sir?"

"Yes."

"I'm glad then, lord," the younger man replied with a small nod of his head in satisfaction, "I was afraid…"

"Of what?" Nifong prompted after a few moments delay.

"…that our men had died for nothing," the aide finished uncertainly.

"That still depends on what we do," the taller man replied, "and what our enemy does."

"What's going to happen, General?"

Nifong paused to consider before answering in a brisk tone, "We will prepare for Xian the opportunity he has been praying for."

"A trap? Won't he be expecting something like that?"

"Yes, but, against his nature, he will take the risk. The shadow of his uncle looms long over him, and longer still the shadow of his father now long since passed."

"How do you know this, sir? Madame Wu?"

The general locked eyes briefly with his subordinate, nodded, and then looking away once again remarked, "Yes. I have my opponent at a disadvantage," suddenly Nifong laughed bitterly, "Not so honorable, is it, my friend? I'm sorry to disappoint you."

"You've never disappointed anyone, my lord," replied the aide without hesitation.

"You're too loyal, Captain," Nifong replied with a mixture of bitterness and affection, "I've done deeds that would brand me a criminal in a different time and place. I don't see how my rank or my nation's blessing makes those deeds any less blameworthy. I wonder how the Spirit of the Earth can stand by someone who is capable of raping the mind of his enemy and sending him to his death without a trace of mercy or compassion."

The younger man looked down, uncertain whether to reply. His brow creased before he looked up, his decision made.

"May I speak, sir?"

Nifong, who had looked back at the nearest tank, turned to look again on his companion, for though his aide had been with him many years now, such a request was rare.

"Of course," he said in surprise.

"You're so hard on yourself, General, and I just don't understand," he began, genuinely confused, "I know you feel responsible for every one who dies, even amongst the enemy, but you didn't ask for this war, none of us did. You speak of fairness and justice in war when there is none. Why do you insist on beating yourself bloody over doing only what you must? What purpose does it serve?"

The aging general sighed and answered, "It helps to remind me that power comes at the cost of total responsibility, Captain. The soldiers' job is to do what I tell them to do or to die trying. My job is to win without making my men sacrifice their lives, but now it seems that even when I succeed in this as a military leader, I fail as a human being. My only choice is whether to litter the field with corpses clothed in red or green. Either way, I leave behind a legacy of ruined lives and cemeteries."

"That choice makes a great difference to us, general. Why should you lament an unfair fight when a fair fight means that many of us, your own people, would lie dead instead of the enemy? Isn't your function to ensure that the odds are in our favor before we ever lift a stone?"

The question hung in the air as the sun began to dip below the horizon. Twilight was upon them.

Finally Nifong replied, slowly nodding his head in glum affirmation, "You speak the truth, Captain, and that is why I will never hesitate in my duty or waver in pursuit of victory for our people. I pray only that the Spirits forgive me for what I've done, and for the sake of the innocents we protect, help to deliver us from the tyranny of Azulon."

Wind whistled through the helmets hung on the grave markers as they mounted their ostrich horses and prepared to depart.

"We must get word to the Council of Five as soon as may be, for I know now what we must do, and where. We will need our allies from the north and the Earth King's most powerful earthbenders to crush this invasion, but crush it we will."

"I'll not be sorry to leave this place, my lord," remarked the aide uneasily as he surveyed the rapidly darkening graveyard.

"Neither will I," the general replied before pushing his ostrich horse into a gallop.

Soon they were gone, leaving the wind and the shadows the only companions of the fallen.


	16. Alia Iacta Est

_Avatar: The Last Airbender_ Created By: Michael Dante DiMartino, Bryan Konietzko  
_Avatar: The Last Airbender_ Owned By: Nickelodeon, a subsidiary of Viacom  
All original content and characters © Acastus

* * *

**  
Chapter XVI – Alia Iacta Est (The Die is Cast)**

Nikon dug his heels into the sides of his mongoose dragon, urging it forward. He was late, a rare and uncomfortable circumstance for him. Punctuality was a distinct virtue in a society where the smallest insult, whether real or perceived, often resulted in the dreaded _agni kai_. As a commoner, before he was taken as a student by the illustrious Master Chen, Nikon would not even have been afforded the opportunity to defend himself in such a duel. He would simply have been maimed or executed.

Pushing these thoughts from his mind, he instead focused on the journey. The Nasu plain flashed before him as he and a pair of guards tore across the countryside. Sweat poured down his brow, for though the Summer Solstice had passed more than a month ago, the late afternoon still sweltered in this region of the world. He experienced a brief moment of regret as he realized that, no more than a few weeks ago, this land was covered in a sea of grain. Now it was a wasteland of ash and dust scoured mercilessly by the wind.

Cresting a low ridge, the great fortress city of Nanjing rose in the distance before them. Its fortifications, obviously of great age and in poor condition, were broken badly in a dozen places. Thick, black smoke rose in never ending columns that threatened to blot out the sky. The mongoose dragons closed the gap between them and the fallen enemy stronghold at amazing speed. Soon the Fire Nation flags draped over the lengths of wall still intact became visible.

Iroh's friend looked to his left and saw the remains of the ancient monorail system that had once connected this mighty provincial capital to the rest of the continent. The railway stretched to the north almost as far as the eye could see before turning east along a river that was but a glimmer in the distance. Supported by elegant stone arches, the structure looked as if it had been there since the beginning of time and would be there beyond its end. The architectural perfection of the railway was ruined, however, by its abrupt termination some distance from the city. The intervening expanse was littered with the crumbled remains of this final tract.

The structure captured the young commoner's imagination, and he was reminded briefly of the book Iroh had read during the crossing. He caught himself wondering sadly whether Tien Shin had wrecked this beautiful monument, one of the last, proud vestiges of the ancient world. He dismissed this idea, however, as he got close enough to see the vegetation growing over the stones of the fallen railway. The monorail, whether through decay or as a result of some war that had now long since faded from memory, had obviously collapsed hundreds of years before Tien Shin had arrived to destroy it.

Visions of buildings that touched the sky and underground dams vanished as soon as he saw the bright red tents of Tien Shin's headquarters just outside the city. He had not seen his commanding officer for over a month since his humiliation at Cam'ron, and he was glad of it. Despite Tien Shin's severe warning about the enemy's search for a weakness in their new technology, they had witnessed no change in the enemy's strategy since then. The defenders, outgunned and outmaneuvered, but not out fought, continued to fall back, burning everything they could not take with them. Those encircled by the Fire Nation's rapid advance fought to the death.

Nikon felt again the twinge of unease at Tien Shin's concern. The _daimyo_ had been angry beyond reason, yes, and clearly regarded him with dull hatred and contempt, but the fear in his eyes when he spoke of Nifong had been palpable. He had never seen Tien Shin show fear before that night.

As the cluster of richly decorated Fire Nation tents drew close, the brigade leader saw another small party of mongoose riders arrive from the west and stop in front of the largest tent. As they dismounted Nikon could see that the leader of the other party was none other than Prince Iroh. Suddenly the demons of doubt and indecision that had plagued him the whole journey vanished. The Crown Prince, turning to identify the newcomers as he took off his helmet, smiled broadly and spread his arms wide in a gesture of welcome.

"Your Highness!" exclaimed Nikon, emotion threatening to overwhelm him, "You're alive!"

The commoner embraced the Crown Prince, who smiled and replied, "It is good to see you too, my friend. I feared the worst when Chieng told me of Nifong's attack against Cam'ron."

They released each other, and unable to restrain himself, Nikon rejoined with a mischievous grin, "You helped me out there, Your Highness. As soon as the enemy heard you were sending _her_ over," he said, using the palm of one hand to slap the other and making a take off motion, "they took off like a wolf bat out of hell!"

"Oh, I'm sure of it!" Iroh replied laughing, then, checking quickly from side to side to make sure the foul mouthed engineer wasn't eavesdropping, "My only question is how you stopped your own men from running away too!"

They laughed for a moment before the smile faded from the young tank commander's face.

"I know I let you down," he confessed solemnly, "I let us all down. I lost face in front of Tien Shin, and I know that reflects on you, Your Highness. I'm sorry and I beg your forgiveness."

"Haha! You didn't let me down!" Iroh corrected, "I should thank you for giving me the opportunity to win such a victory for my father. I received a letter from him congratulating me on Nomura not a week ago, "a glorious success" he called it!"

"Really?" the tank commander questioned in surprise. Catching himself he continued, "I mean, yes, of course it was! I'm just sorry I put you in that position," then, lowering his gaze to the ground promised soberly, "I could have blown this whole thing for us. I won't let it happen again."

"I know, my friend," Iroh replied with measured confidence, "but you didn't, remember that. Besides," he continued with a satisfied grin, '"The risk was probably worth it. Just think," he said, motioning to the tent in front of them, "when we walk in there, Tien Shin will have to congratulate us on our victories!"

Nikon blew out a breath and smiled ruefully, "Yeh, that's worth something I guess," then, a look of apprehension clouding his face, "Did… the Fire Lord say anything about… Cam'ron?"

Iroh's grin broke in a wide smile as he replied, "Yes, he did, as a matter of fact," but declined to continue. Instead, Iroh's grin expanded to extend nearly from ear to ear.

"_Well?_" his friend pleaded, "Please, Your Highness, don't torture the low born, we aren't built for it!"

"Ha! Nonsense, anyone who can, quote, "hand Nifong his first defeat in a decade is a servant of special talent and ability", end quote."

"Sweet Agni! Did he _really_ say that?"

"Oh yes, I will show you the letter later," chuckling, Iroh continued, "and here you told Xian you weren't a warrior – shows what you know about yourself, my friend! Anyway, we can talk more about it after the council, but now we must attend to my cousin and our beloved _daimyo_."

Turning serious again, and checking to make sure none could overhear the familiarity, Nikon warned, "Iroh, I am concerned about your cousin. When I saw him last he'd lost a lot of weight and looked very ill. I tried to find out what was wrong, but he wouldn't tell me."

Iroh's smile dampened, but he brushed off the warning saying, "Don't worry, I'm sure he's fine. Wouldn't we have heard something by now if he were really sick? Besides, Xian worries for everyone and everything. He lets it wear on him more than he should," then, his smile returning, "We'll just have to cheer him up, maybe with one of those nice, hot cups of tea he is always recommending to us."

They entered the tent, returning the salutes of the sentinels as they passed. Inside they saw a nearly perfect duplicate of General Xian's headquarters. The center of the tent was occupied by a high rectangular table. Iroh and Nikon were indeed the last to arrive. The room was full of people, including Gan, Chieng Shiung, Tien Shin, and General Xian. The rest Iroh recognized as Tien Shin's other brigade commanders.

Xian and Tien Shin stood with many of the others around the table, poring over the map. Iroh was startled when he realized one of the sentinels had followed him and Nikon into the tent and announced their names in a formal tone. Everyone turned to the newcomers, but Iroh focused on his cousin. His heart sinking in his chest, he saw instantly that Nikon had been right. Xian looked exhausted, frail, as if he had aged a lifetime since that night the Fire Lord had given him the task of defeating Nifong. No, not just frail, defeated. The relaxed, fatherly disposition that Iroh had loved since he was a boy was gone, replaced by a stony countenance that betrayed a life without hope. Iroh heard Nikon draw in a quick breath as he too looked upon their commanding general.

"_Oh cousin, what has happened to you?"_ Iroh quailed in his mind, _"I don't understand, we are winning, yet you look as if we have already lost! What is happening to you?" _Iroh surveyed the room quickly, noting Tien Shin's sour look and concluded, _"No time to find out now."_

Iroh and his friend saluted their general and Tien Shin. Xian returned the salute, Tien Shin did not.

"Welcome, Prince Iroh," Xian said, his voice stronger than his frail frame seemed to allow, "and you, Commander Orlando. Congratulations to you both on your victories. The Fire Lord has written that, despite whatever mistakes we have made," Xian paused briefly here to make eye contact with Nikon, "he is pleased with the success of our campaign and has developed a favorable impression of your performances."

With the ghost of a smile, Xian gestured for Tien Shin to contribute.

"Yes, justified or not," the _daimyo_ said through obviously gritted teeth, "the Fire Lord has bid us congratulate you, Prince Iroh, on your successful liquidation of the Nomura pocket, and…," Tien Shin's dark brown eyes flashed with bitter hate as he focused on Nikon, "you on your… "victory" at Cam'ron."

Nikon saluted once again and, unable to suppress the hint of a smile, replied, "Thank you, my lord… I hope I have made you proud."

Tien Shin's fist tightened over the grip of one of the war fans he wore in his sash.

After allowing a few moments for the tension to continue, during which many in the room began to exchange uneasy looks, Xian began anew.

"Now that everyone is present," he began sternly, "we must turn to the reason I have summoned you. We are here to make a decision, and while the final judgment is mine alone to make, I would hear what each of you would counsel before I choose our course."

Xian instructed the group to gather around the table which was covered in a huge map. Iroh surveyed the map, much larger than any available at his headquarters. This was one of the massive campaign maps that only Xian and Tien Shin's entourages carried. His eyes swept over the enormous chart and recognized the eastern portion of the Nasu plain, the western third of Lake Myojin and the wide spine of the mighty Ping Tou mountains which separated them. To the south he spied the upper reaches of the Dune Sea and the lifeless salt lakes that populated it.

"First, the facts," Xian announced when they had taken their positions around the table. The ailing general produced a thin scroll, and handing the missive to the young commoner, asked softly, "Nikon, would you please read this aloud."

Nikon opened the scroll, cleared his throat and began.

"_From the loyal Commander Ryu, 2nd Armored Division, to the noble Tien Shin, Daimyo of the Army of the Great Divide, I send greetings._

_My lord, it has been three days since, after meeting token resistance at Highpass Hold, we captured the Meiji Pass and penetrated to the far side of the Ping Tou Mountains. I am pleased to report that after following the Jade Highway for almost five hundred leagues we have finally come to its termination where it joins with the Coast Road. Here, at long last, we caught our first glimpse of the western shore of mighty Lake Myojin. I tell you truly, lord, Lake Myojin is a wonder to behold. If I did not know better, I would swear this was the Eastern Ocean itself._

_As planned, we have pivoted southward upon gaining the Coast Road. We briefly occupied two nameless seaside villages, but finding no inhabitants and nothing of value, at once proceeded further south. Yesterday our scouts came within view of our strategic objective for this stage of the campaign, the port city of Amiganza._

_Approaching the city from the northwest the scouts found the city overrun with refugees. Both the Coast Road from the south and the road heading west to the southern passes of the Ping Tou Mountains were choked with a living river of men, women, children, wounded soldiers and every conceivable form of transport. All appear to be heading for the harbor in the hopes of obtaining passage to the eastern shore, presumably in an effort to gain the imagined safety of Ba Sing Se._

_The road from the north was devoid of refugees, however, and given our experience in the two villages we briefly occupied, we believe that most of the population along the north shore has been evacuated. It seems from this that the enemy has received advance notice of our arrival and acted accordingly. This morning our belief in this matter was confirmed by an event of such importance that I felt immediate communication was necessary._

_Last night we sent scouts around the city to try and survey the situation to the south. During the night one of the scouting parties encountered and killed an Earth Kingdom soldier bearing a message scroll from Wu Ti, General Nifong's Chief of Staff, to the Governor of Amiganza Province. I send you this captured communication for your inspection along with this report. I note that the enemy's intelligence is far better than we supposed since his assessment of our supply situation is basically accurate._

_Yours in obedience,_

_Ryu_

"Now this one," commanded Xian, handing Nikon a larger green scroll. The scroll's spine was adorned with a wooden cap on each end that bore the symbol of the Earth Kingdom. It was tied with a dark green ribbon. Nikon carefully untied the ribbon, opened the scroll, and began to read.

"_I'm afraid the answer to your request, my Lord Governor, is still no. General Nifong is not impressed with your insults or your petty threats. He has bid me to encourage you to go ahead and report this "outrage" to the Earth King for all the good it will do you, and while he _**is**_ impressed that a member of the Council of Five would ever leave the comfort of Ba Sing Se to see the real war, he would like to point out that General Xu has no more authority over him than you do._

_As for the facts of the situation, we are well aware of Ryu's activities to the north. This is not important, however, since our intelligence indicates he has not been supplied in over 10 days. Without additional fuel his ability to threaten either Amiganza or our rear is low. Now that Daimyo Tien Shin has secured the bridgeheads across the Yoshi River, we are certain that the enemy's main thrust will be through the southern passes, and it is there we must concentrate our forces. _

_Sending troops to Amiganza would be a waste we cannot afford. You and General Xu do not need anymore bodyguards. If you are that afraid, get on the next boat to Ba Sing Se._

_Wu Ti_

Nikon's voice rose an octave in an expression of surprise as he finished reading the message. He lowered the scroll, his eyes wide in shock, and whistled loudly in spite of himself.

"Yes," remarked Xian as he nodded absent mindedly, "you're not kidding, my friend."

Gan, standing to Nikon's right, motioned for his friend to hand over the scroll.

"All right," asked Gan as he examined the paper closely, "I know what it says, but what does it mean?"

"That, dear colleagues," intoned Xian in a tired voice, "is the question we are here to answer."

The tent flaps rustled in the wind as silence descended on the group. Some exchanged worried glances.

Finally Chieng spoke, raising one hand in a slightly flippant gesture, "So? What's there to debate about? We send the armor and cavalry through the Meiji Pass and catch Nifong with his pants down from the rear. With Prince Iroh's infantry blocking their escape to the west they'd have no chance."

Gan put the scroll down on the table and observed in a controlled voice, "That's one interpretation. The obvious one."

"Again," Xian cut in, "that is the question we must consider. The message contains enough, _barely enough_, information to make a decision, but only if we believe it to be genuine. Is it real? Or is it a deception?"

Bristling, the engineer retorted, "I think Gan, as usual, overanalyzes. If it looks like a turtle duck and quacks like a turtle duck, then it is, in fact, a turtle duck," her golden eyes narrowing dangerously she addressed Gan, "You believe it's a fake. Why?"

"I think it _may_ be fake. I don't know for sure," the Qu'ai Tau replied cautiously.

"So, the answer to my question is you have no evidence that it is fake?"

Annoyed, Gan replied hotly, "Of course I don't have _evidence_ that it's fake, what the hell do you expect? Instant forensic analysis? Perhaps a bit of soothsaying?"

"Then your conclusion is baseless," she stated coldly.

Tien Shin laughed with quiet malice and said, "You have the makings of a good state prosecutor, Chieng, but the possibility of deceit must be considered."

One of the brigade commanders who Iroh recognized by sight, but not by name, picked up the scroll, read it quickly and commented, "Well, it's interesting to note that the tone is hardly complimentary of anyone. Also, the letter's undated and contains no greeting or preamble at all."

"I agree," Xian injected thoughtfully, "the letter seems genuine if only because it paints no one in a flattering light. Wu Ti comes across as an arrogant ass, the Governor as a whining incompetent, and Nifong as confident enough of his position to feel comfortable insulting a member of the Council of Five."

"Also," Iroh commented, echoing Xian's thoughtful tone, "As Ryu pointed out, they did reveal a key piece of intelligence we know to be accurate. Ryu cannot advance without receiving additional supplies," then, turning to address Xian directly, "If this is a deception, General, it is an exceptional one."

Xian locked eyes with his cousin and replied, "Would you expect anything less from Nifong?"

The question hung in the air, silent and deadly. No one was in doubt of the answer.

Breaking the silence, Gan queried, "Even if it is genuine, how do we know Nifong had anything to do with it? Who is this Wu Ti? He claims that Nifong instructed him to respond in this manner, but his claim isn't proof."

"No, it isn't," Xian agreed, "and all we know of Wu Ti is that he is, in fact, Nifong's Chief of Staff, or was six months ago when I was last briefed on the subject."

"How often does a member of the Council of Five leave Ba Sing Se?" asked Commander Tojo, one of Tien Shin's brigade leaders, "I don't remember that ever happening before."

"It's rare, but it does happen," answered Xian, "General Shu and I defeated one of the Council members on my first campaign."

"More to the point," Tien Shin interrupted in an undertone of annoyance, "The message reveals discord and conflict amongst the enemy, which is very credible given Nifong's infamously shaky relations with Ba Sing Se."

"Only if it's genuine," Xian replied.

"Yes," Tien Shin agreed, eyeing his commander, "if it's genuine, though I agree with Chieng, I see no reason to believe the message false other than it is, indeed, quite convenient."

"And that doesn't bother you?"

"It does, but I see no excuse for inaction."

"You seem to have made up your mind."

"I have," Tien Shin replied softly, but firmly after a slight pause.

"Why?"

"Think carefully, General," the _daimyo_ replied in that measured and calculating tone that Iroh feared most, "What realistic choice do we have? What is our alternative? We have overlooked perhaps the most important fact revealed in this letter. Whether it is a fake or not, Nifong clearly knows what our _current_ plan is. He _expects_ me to attack through the southern passes, just as we planned. So, what other options do we have besides using the northern pass? I see two."

Tien Shin pointed to the desert region on the map and said, "One, march through the eastern expanse of the Dune Sea and round the Ping Tou at their termination far to the east of Mequon, and two, end the campaign now and consolidate our gains by pulling back and fortifying the Nasu."

"Neither is practical," he concluded with absolute confidence, "The former is suicide unless we magically develop the ability to drink salt water and can somehow instantly manufacture a dozen more tank trains to service the unbelievably long supply lines we'd create in the process. The latter would be in direct violation of the Fire Lord's order."

Xian sighed, cocked his head to one side and shifted his gaze to his cousin.

"Prince Iroh, what say you?"

Shocked to hear himself say the words, Iroh replied, "I agree with the _daimyo_. We can't go forward the way we planned, we can't go around, and we can't stay where we are."

"Unfortunately," Iroh continued, pointing to the rabbit's warren of trails that constituted the southern passes, "Even if the letter is genuine, the opportunity presented does not guarantee a swift, easy victory. Even if we succeed in engaging them unprepared from the rear and my infantry blocks the western end of the pass, we will still be fighting in what amounts to an enormous rock canyon. Hardly the most favorable ground. However, if we succeed in trapping Nifong there the probability of destroying him is high, even if our own losses are heavy."

"On the other hand," equivocated the Crown Prince, pointing now at the western shore of Lake Myojin, "if it is a trap, the lake shore is the only place for them to counterattack. The land there is relatively flat for thirty leagues before you get to the foot hills of the Ping Tou, so they'd be attacking us on very favorable ground. We've still got enough time left in the dry season for us to execute the whole operation with time to spare so we shouldn't have to worry about mud."

"Even if it is a trap, _who cares_?" Chieng asked in an exasperated tone, "They've failed to stop us so far and they've thrown everything they have at us. This is just the opportunity we've been waiting for, so let's not waste it."

"I don't know about that," Iroh objected gently, "Nifong's counterattack at Cam'ron was a failure in part because he did not commit the bulk of his forces to it."

"So what?" the engineer retorted with a curt gesture of dismissal, "The fact remains that he engaged our armor and lost – badly, and if he learned anything from the failure we sure haven't seen it."

Iroh shrugged his shoulders and declined to rebut the argument. After a few moments of silence, Xian turned to Nikon, who had not yet spoken.

"Nikon?"

The young commoner looked quickly over at Iroh, who regarded him with an encouraging smile, then to Tien Shin, who did not.

"Well?" Tien Shin prodded coldly when Nikon did not answer immediately.

Addressing Xian, the young tank commander replied in a slow and deliberate voice, "Cam'ron taught me the value of caution, General, and the _daimyo_ has impressed upon me many times and in many different ways the value of information and the power of deception," he hesitated a moment and stole another glance at Iroh before concluding, "I agree with Gan. I believe the message is false and that this is a trap, but I have nothing more than my intuition to support it."

Chieng made a sound of disgust, while Xian nodded solemnly and said, "Thank you, Commander."

"We have asked the question whether we believe this captured message to be genuine or not," Tien Shin retorted indirectly, "but I submit that this question has no practical value. As Chieng pointed out, we have no reason to believe it is not genuine, and therefore we have no choice, General, but to act upon it," Tien Shin concluded with the cold, deadly finality of a jail cell slamming shut, "If you fail to act, the Fire Lord will hold you accountable for allowing such an opportunity to pass."

Xian turned reluctantly to meet his subordinate's eyes, read the implicit threat that lay there, and accepted his fate.

"The die is cast then," the exhausted General concluded heavily, "We will attack. Tien Shin, prepare the mobile forces for immediate departure. We make for the Meiji Pass."


	17. Long After Midnight: Part I

_Avatar: The Last Airbender_ Created By: Michael Dante DiMartino, Bryan Konietzko  
_Avatar: The Last Airbender_ Owned By: Nickelodeon, a subsidiary of Viacom  
All original content and characters © Acastus

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**  
Chapter XVII – Long After Midnight: Part I**

It was long after midnight and Iroh stood alone outside his tent. He looked up with little joy at the waxing moon and then at the camp before him bathed in its pale light. The area immediately in front of the tent was littered with dozens of crates. Some of these were open and contained armor, weapons and other supplies. Others were closed. Chieng's tank train had been loaded with hundreds of these containers before heading northeast only a few hours after the council had concluded. The landscape beyond the camp was still and silent.

After Chieng had gone, the preparations for the departure of Tien Shin's army seemed to Iroh to have created more noise than the fiercest combat at the height of the battle of the Arno, an event which now seemed strangely distant to the Crown Prince. That time of clarity, confidence and hope had now receded into a glooming twilight of uncertainty and dread. Iroh had felt reasonably confident that they were proceeding on the right course when the council had ended, but now he felt uneasy. The doubts expressed so well by his friends echoed stubbornly in his mind.

The sound of footsteps alerted him that he was no longer alone. Turning quickly he was unsurprised to see Nikon, still in his armor and with his helmet tucked under his right arm.

"Up so late, my friend?" Iroh asked, forcing a smile.

Nikon replied, his expression bleak, "I should ask the same of you, Your Highness. But I don't need to ask why you're awake. No amount of tea will make our problems go away, will it?"

Iroh laughed with some bitterness and replied, "No, even my cousin would have to admit that."

The young commoner put his helmet down gently on a nearby crate and continued, "It's a few hours until dawn. Then I must head to the Meiji," he paused, looked away as if embarrassed, then looked back at his friend and concluded, "I wanted to take my leave of you while it was still quiet enough… to say goodbye."

Iroh's chest tightened as he replied more sternly than he intended, "We're not saying goodbye."

The wind sighed among the tents as Nikon stood before him.

"It's a trap, Iroh… and Tien Shin knows it."

"Then why, _why_ did he support the attack?" asked Iroh, his hands spread wide in a sudden, visceral expression of the frustration that had been building inside him.

"I don't know."

"It doesn't make any sense! If it's a trap, what advantage is there in it for _him_?"

"None that I can see," Nikon admitted with a sigh.

"He's going to be right there, for heaven's sake! If it's a trap, he's going to be trapped too. It doesn't make any sense," Iroh insisted, "My step brother is anything but stupid. He would not participate if he believed it to be a suicide mission."

"But you're still out here thinking about it, aren't you?" the young tank commander countered, "If you were still convinced this was a good idea you'd be in there," he said, pointing his thumb back over his shoulder at the tent behind them, "sleeping like a baby."

"I'm confused," Iroh admitted in turn, "it felt like Tien Shin bullied my cousin into this course of action for some reason I don't understand, but by the same token I don't think I'd have chosen differently if I were in Xian's position."

"It's killing him, Iroh," said Nikon, lowering his voice, "Xian, I mean. You see that, don't you?"

Iroh winced visibly at the statement of this simple truth.

"Yes, I know that now," Iroh admitted after a pause. The shock of seeing his cousin so changed at the council had not yet worn off.

"Is he sick, do you think?"

"No, I don't think so, not his body anyway," answered Iroh after a short pause to consider, "He wouldn't let me see him after the meeting, but… I think it's the uncertainty. The stress of the uncertainty is eating him alive. My cousin worries about everything and everyone. He's been that way my whole life, and everyone has loved him for it, even my father."

"What about your brother?" Nikon ventured hesitantly, for he was terrified of Prince Ozai, and it was rare that Iroh spoke of him.

Iroh smiled and replied, "Yes, even my brother, in his own way."

"Wow!" the young commoner offered involuntarily, "Then your cousin is _too_ good for his _own_ good, isn't he?"

"Yes. He told me as much before we left."

Nikon's eyebrows rose in surprise, "What?"

Briefly Iroh recounted Xian's suspicions surrounding the Fire Lord's motives for appointing him to lead the new army.

"I didn't believe him. I didn't want to believe him," the young Prince said heavily, "Xian has been a pillar of strength and wisdom for me as long as I've known him, but…" Iroh hesitated as he struggled to continue. He did not like criticizing his cousin. It felt like a betrayal. Forcing himself to go on despite the discomfort he concluded, "…maybe he was right to say he was not the best man to lead this campaign. He is wiser than I, but… he is governed by his fears."

Iroh paused and looked down at the broken ground before him, uncertain whether to mention Xian's final comment during their conversation from so long ago.

"And?" his friend asked, cocking his head to one side in response to his friend's hesitation.

"Well, he also told me he was having nightmares… dark premonitions… things like that."

"You don't believe in any of that stuff, do you?" Nikon returned with some surprise, "You remember that Gan made my life hell for spouting that "gutter trash superstition" when we first met. I thought the nobility looked down on all the hocus pocus of the underclass."

"I don't, or I didn't, now I don't really know what to believe. The world seems a bit wider now than it used to. Besides, it doesn't matter what I believe, it only matters what my cousin believes."

"Did he say what his dreams were about?"

"No, but I know he's been dreading a conundrum like we now face for months. It's probably been gnawing at him since before we even left home. He's had to make a very hard decision and the risk he is taking is very large."

"Will he break do you think?" Nikon asked, his eyes widening with fear.

Iroh considered this and replied, "No."

Finding no comfort in Iroh's stubborn expression of confidence, Nikon shook his head in exasperation, "I just _don't_ get it. What the hell's happened to us? How did we go from certain victory to this… this _mess_?"

"I don't know, my friend. The more successful we've become, the more the uncertainty has seemed to increase. It doesn't make sense, but it is nonetheless true."

Nikon crossed his arms, sighed in frustration, and then, changing the subject asked, "Were you mad at me for disagreeing with you at the council, by the way?"

Iroh laughed and replied, "No, of course not. I was more afraid you and Gan would be mad at _me_ for agreeing with Tien Shin," then, in a more serious tone, "I value your opinion, and I would no more stop you from using your head than I would Gan. You both have an agility of mind that I admire."

Nikon smiled weakly and replied, "Thanks. Guess I need to stop and think more often instead of spending all my time chasing after hookers and trying to humiliate the _daimyo_, right?"

"I don't blame anyone for trying to humiliate my step brother," the Crown Prince replied with a wry smile, "but we could all do with some more wisdom and patience. I know I could."

Iroh leaned back against the crate behind him and, reading his friends troubled features, asked, "Are you afraid?"

"Yes, yes, I am," Nikon confessed with a single nod of his head, "At the Arno and Cam'ron I didn't have time to be afraid. I just collapsed in a puddle afterwards as soon as I was alone. This time though… it seems I've got all the time in the world."

"We're all afraid," Iroh injected, "Even Tien Shin."

"When the time comes, though, it won't matter," continued Nikon quietly, ignoring Iroh's comment, "just as it didn't matter in any of the battles I've fought until now. When the fighting starts, the world narrows... and everything else except the fighting just… goes away. I always wanted an education – never thought I'd get one like this."

The young commoner began to rub his arms as if he were cold and looked suddenly away.

"And…?" Iroh finally prompted, "Your turn, my friend."

Nikon nodded his head a few times and finally replied in a tone of quiet desperation, "It's selfish, I know, but I wish Master Chen were here. He always knew what to do, but… he's probably been dead for months now, hasn't he?"

Although phrased as a question, there was no doubt as to the young commoner's belief in the answer. Iroh began to utter a protest, but the words died on his lips. He studied his friend in the moonlight and discovered he could no longer offer such false assurances. The young rake who had trained recruits on Showa Field during the day and shamelessly caroused the city at night was diminishing before his eyes, replaced ever more clearly by the visage of the professional soldier that stood before him.

Iroh finally nodded in response.

"Okay, enough of that," Nikon said finally, squaring his shoulders. "Time for me to go."

He picked up his helmet, turned back to his friend and said simply, "Thank you. Thank you for everything you've done for me. I never had a real friend before you, and you've been the best friend –"

Iroh, his eyes tearing up instantly at the proffered goodbye, stepped forward and caught Nikon in a bear hug, "No, stop! I won't listen! We will meet again, alive and victorious in the southern pass, our enemy smashed between us, you'll see! You and Xian _have_ to live," Iroh pleaded, "_Please!_ What would I do without you both?"

The young commoner hugged him back and replied with conviction, "You'd go on, somehow, but no one's giving up, Your Highness, I swear."

They released each other with one final pat on the other's back. Nikon stepped away and saluted, a gesture his friend returned, before turning and walking back the way he had come without uttering another word. Iroh watched him go, his feet kicking up dust as he went. A few moments later he was gone, leaving the camp shrouded once again under the unnatural blanket of perfect silence and leaden expectation.


	18. Long After Midnight: Part II

_Avatar: The Last Airbender_ Created By: Michael Dante DiMartino, Bryan Konietzko  
_Avatar: The Last Airbender_ Owned By: Nickelodeon, a subsidiary of Viacom  
All original content and characters © Acastus

_A/N: Sorry for the delay folks. As the incredibly cool Kakashi is fond of saying, "I got lost on the path of life." ASN, my job (our fiscal year ends June 30__th__) and other things have gotten in the way recently. Also, this chapter was hard to write. I think you'll understand. For those interested in seeing this story through to the end, don't worry, I won't stop until it's done._

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**  
Chapter XVIII – Long After Midnight: Part II**

Iroh turned to resume his lonely vigil, but stopped short as his eyes detected a shadow at the entrance to his tent. His thoughts of melancholy vanished as he shifted seamlessly into a bending stance. Months of high intensity combat had taught him, and every other soldier who had survived this far, to be ready to fight for one's life at a moment's notice.

His body relaxed, but his mind quailed the moment the shadow spoke.

"So, do I need to take a ticket?" came the familiar voice with a trace of amusement, "I don't know anyone else who has a receiving line at four in the morning."

Xian stepped out of the tent and into the moonlight, a tired, but genuine smile on his face. He carried a black scroll tube in one hand. Iroh began to salute, but the gesture died with just a slight movement of his arm. He knew why his cousin was here. Just as Nikon had, Xian had come to say goodbye.

The world dimmed further in Iroh's perception as the adrenalin rush from the sudden intrusion drained away and a sick feeling of shame washed over him. He steadied himself by leaning on a neighboring crate. _How much had he heard? _Iroh wondered. Xian stepped forward to help, but his cousin waved him off.

"You startled me, cousin," Iroh replied lamely, "Nikon and I were just… exchanging farewells."

Xian nodded, failing to give any hint as to whether he had been privy to their conversation.

"And now, it is our turn," Xian affirmed patiently, "I too leave in a few hours. We will either meet again in the southern pass, or… we won't. Either way, we have a few things to talk about, you and I."

Iroh eyed the black tube in his cousin's hand. Its polished surface reflected the moonlight as Xian turned slightly to face him. A few moments passed, but the tightness in Iroh's chest had returned. He did not trust himself to reply. Anger, fear, shame and frustration warred within him. He squeezed his eyes shut to prevent the tears he felt burning his eyes from falling.

"You're afraid of losing us," Xian stated simply with a nod of his head, "I know."

At this the Crown Prince sank to his knees.

"Please, cousin," Iroh pleaded, his voice thick, "Let me…"

"No," Xian cut him off gently, dropping to the ground in front of Iroh, " I know what you want to ask, but you cannot come with us," he continued, shaking his head, "Don't misunderstand, I would do… _anything_ to have you there with me."

"Then let me come, I can help, I promise…"

"I _know_ you could," Xian assured him, then with quiet pride and satisfaction continued, "You have become a great warrior, and an even _greater_ leader, just as I knew you would. You are feared by your enemies, loved by your friends, your soldiers, and the people. It is _because_ of that, that I _cannot_ let you come with us. If I'm wrong, if it's a trap, you will be needed here."

Looking deep into his cousin's eyes, Xian pressed forward in a firmer voice, "Iroh, if the worst befalls me, I want you to open this and do as it instructs."

One moment Iroh was awash with emotion, seemingly incapable of influencing what he felt, let alone understanding or controlling the situation around him. The next, he felt still, as if the veil of dreadful silence which enveloped the camp had penetrated his very soul. Iroh felt his grip weaken on his cousin's arm, then, a moment later, he felt his hand fall leaden into his lap.

Slowly Xian extended his other hand and offered him the black tube.

"Do you understand?"

The dark cylinder hung between them. Iroh reached out and took the tube. It felt cold and hard, a slice of death.

"Yes," Iroh supplied in a flat tone, his gaze sliding off his cousin and focusing on nothing.

"Good," then, after a few moments of silence continued, "Are you all right?"

Iroh turned slowly back to Xian and said, "All right? You're telling me you're going to die, and you ask me if I am all right?"

"I did not say that, Iroh," Xian reproached with a trace of sternness, "This is a precaution. I do not know why Tien Shin pushed this attack so strongly, but I suspect his motives, as do Nikon and Gan."

"Then call off the attack!" Iroh roared suddenly, his cheeks flushing red, "If you believe it's a trap, whether begat by Nifong or Tien Shin, then _why_ go?"

Xian sighed. It had been less than twelve hours since that question had arisen, and yet he was as tired of it as if it had plagued him his whole life.

Waiting for Iroh to calm himself before he replied, Xian finally answered, his voice rising in intensity as he went, "For two reasons, Iroh. First, because I don't _know_ it's a trap. And if it's not, then this _is_ the opportunity we've been waiting for to turn the war around. Imagine for a moment," he continued, a pained expression twisting his gentle facial features, "if this were our true opening, and we _failed_ to seize it? Could we _ever_ forgive ourselves for wasting what is probably our last opportunity to end this… this… _endless_, hateful _massacre_ we call a war? And if we fail here now, how will we feel about the hundreds of thousands of _our_ people who surely will die before we are finally conquered?"

"Yes, cousin," Xian continued at Iroh's shocked expression, "conquered. For surely the Fire Nation _shall_ be conquered if we fail. The Fire Lord has summoned the entire strength of the empire for this campaign, and if we suffer the same fate as my father the Fire Nation will not survive long."

"Do you really believe the situation is that bad, cousin?" asked Iroh in barely a whisper.

"Yes, I do, and so does the Fire Lord."

"What is the second reason?" Iroh prompted after a moment of shocked silence.

"Second," Xian continued, "because whether he is plotting or not, I can find no gap in Tien Shin's logic. If I fail to prosecute the war, your father will have me executed for treason when I return. Tien Shin will see to that. You know that, don't you?"

Emotionally exhausted, Iroh nodded glumly and looked at the ground between them.

"Now," Xian continued in a more relaxed tone, "I have some good news for you."

Iroh lifted his head to meet his cousin's eyes. Xian looked old and tired in the pale light of the water tribe's patron spirit, but his gaze was steady.

"Normally the Qu'ai Tau would accompany us on such a venture, to make sure the troops don't take for themselves the spoils of victory that rightfully belong to the Fire Lord, you understand," he said with a quiet laugh, "but in this case I have asked Gan to remain with you. Nikon, of course, must go."

"Thanks," he replied, lowering his head once again. This news failed utterly to provide any comfort to the Crown Prince. It did nothing to lift the pall of dread that had settled on his soul, or limit the anguish he felt at being left behind while his cousin and his best friend went to fight for their lives and the fate of the Fire Nation.

"Don't look so sad, cousin," Xian prodded, his smile widening, "look at the bright side, at least I'm taking Chieng along."

Iroh, jolted briefly from his despair, laughed hollowly and quipped, "Just make sure she's out front, would you?"

"Not a bad idea," Xian mused, "if Nifong has the same reaction to her as everyone else I doubt he'll even show up at all! On the other hand, if he does show up," equivocated Xian, successfully avoiding reuse of the word "trap", "maybe running him over with one of her tank trains is our best hope."

"She certainly has courage," remarked Iroh absently.

Both sighed and lapsed into an uncomfortable silence.

"What are you thinking about now, cousin?" queried Iroh after some time had passed.

Xian looked at the ground and replied without a trace of irony, "Oh, your favorite story, actually, the Battle of the Coral Sea."

Iroh nodded once and looked down as well, for he thought he understood why his cousin's mind would stray to that tale at such a time.

"I know you hate the story after hearing it so many times, but I never stopped loving it," Xian began to explain, "After father died, I couldn't wait for the Harvest Moon feast to come so I could hear it again. No matter how bad the storyteller was, it didn't matter… I just wanted to feel like my father was still alive..."

'My favorite part, you know, was always the night between the first and second day of the battle, when your father and my father's ships had been separated, and the situation looked bad, really bad. The best storytellers always conjured up for me images of my father's mighty battleship, the _Atragon_, wounded but unbowed, standing with a hundred other ships of the line blocking the Water Tribe and Earth Kingdom's combined fleet, the wrecks of hundreds of Fire Nation and enemy ships between them."

"I used to dream of him standing on the bridge that night, looking at the stars, trying to make the best decision he could in such an awful situation. Trapped with his ships in the bay, I know your father did the same."

"You know the rest. The night attack turned the battle around and two days later the enemy was destroyed. Your father and mine became heroes, just as they should have been. But that night…" he said wistfully, "that night… they were just as vulnerable and afraid as we are now… or worse."

"I used to wonder at how smart, strong and brave they were, and I wanted to be _just_ like them. Then, not long before he left and never returned, I asked father how he knew to attack that night, and you know what he said?"

"No, what did he say?"

"He said, _"I didn't. I took the risk and prayed for victory."_ I never really believed him until long after he died when I got some experience under General Shu. Now I know," Xian concluded bitterly, "no matter how carefully one plans or how virtuous you are, luck, fate or fortune, whatever you want to call it, rules us all."

Then, suddenly, Xian smiled, slapped Iroh's knee once and stood up. Iroh immediately followed suit.

"Now, cousin, time to part company."

Xian stepped forward and hugged his cousin fiercely.

"You will make an excellent Fire Lord one day. I am _so_ proud of you."

Iroh tried desperately to reply, but he choked. He raised his arms across his cousin's shoulders and the black tube he still held in his hand came to rest across his cousin's back.

"Don't forget me," Xian said finally through gritted teeth in a choked voice of his own.

"Never," Iroh replied thickly, his eyesight obscured by a flood of tears, "Don't you forget me."

"Never, no more than I could forget mother or father," his cousin vowed.

Xian released his cousin and wiped his eyes. He looked over his cousin's shoulder to see the first rosy fingers of dawn staining the eastern sky.

"Time to go," he said quickly, then added, "and remember what I said about the instructions."

Iroh nodded as he wiped his own eyes. A moment later Xian turned and walked away using the same path Nikon had earlier. Miserable, Iroh sat down once again, knowing he had just seen his cousin for the last time.

* * *

"…and so," the Storyteller concluded, "their miserable hour come round at last, General Xian and Nikon Orlando departed for the Meiji Pass on treads of iron and hearts of lead. The death ride of the Army of the Great Divide began with favorable weather and good spirits amongst the soldiers of the Fire Nation, and ended with everlasting glory for the Earth Kingdom on the blood soaked shores of Lake Myojin…" 

Iroh, unable to thrust aside any longer the images of his cousin and his son, realized with horror that he had begun to cry_. "Forgive me, Prince Zuko, now I have failed you as well…"_


End file.
